Finding Healing
by AthanMortis
Summary: Harry Potter has had enough after his fifth year at Hogwarts. The stress, the pain, the sheer, unadulterated pressure grinding him down has reached a tipping point. He needs to get away. He needs to relax and soothe his injured soul. Time to go globetrotting.
1. Flight of the Potter

_**I do not own Harry Potter or much of anything else you see in this fic, and all credit for the concept goes to Rorschach's Blot for his Make A Wish story, which inspired this one. I will not state this again, as once should be enough. Enjoy.**_

* * *

It was something Harry'd been considering for a while now, a plan he'd been mulling over since he spoke to Luna after Sirius' death. It was all becoming too much. The pressure that had began with Cedric's death, before then, even, and just kept building and building was going to kill him if things continued as they were. He needed to get away. Needed time to think. To heal.

Which was why he spoke to his Uncle when he was sure they were far enough away from King's Cross that any stragglers from the Order that may have stayed to keep an eye on him couldn't see him. "You can let me off here, Uncle Vernon." He said, tension in his voice as he warily looked out the window for anybody following them.

Vernon Dursley blinked for a moment, confused as his mind was pulled from his fearful rage at the threats those the Order had levied at him and his family by his unwanted nephew's voice. Then he stopped on the side of an empty side street and turned to look at the teen. "What do you mean, boy? Why would I let you out here. Especially after what you had those freaks say to us?"

Haarry shook his head. "Believe it or not, Uncle Vernon, I had no idea they were going to do that. I'd rather they hadn't." Despite the amusement he'd gotten out of the entire spectacle, he left unsaid, his family thankfully being too thick to register that. "I have no intention of staying with you for the summer after the year I just went through. You let me out, you won't see me again. Ever, if I have my way, though I'll be satisfied with putting it off till next year."

Vernun glanced at his wife, who looked back at him, her lips pursed, before he popped the boot open and turned back to Harry. "Get out."

Harry nodded, satisfied, and proceeded to do just that before he was stopped by the formerly silent Dudley suddenly speaking. "Will you be alright on your own?"

Harry turned to his cousin, shocked by the question. Even Dudley seemed to be surprised that he'd spoken up. Then he said in a slightly wavering voice. "W-well, your friends don't know what you're doing, do they?"

Harry stared for another moment before shaking his head. "They don't. I'll be fine, though. Don't worry about me." He hesitated briefly before speaking again. "Thanks." He told Dudley, before closing the door and moving behind the car after setting Hedwig's cage down to pull his trunk out. Once all his belongings were removed he closed the boot, Vernon promptly beginning to drive away without looking back.

Harry quickly glanced around before letting Hedwig out of her cage, the beautiful owl ruffling her plumage before looking at him with obvious displeasure and giving him an angry bark.

"Don't be like that, Hedwig. I can't exactly take you with me, considering how I'll be travelling. You're better off staying at Hermione's this summer. It'll be good for her to have an easy way to send letters anyway."

Hedwig barked again in reprimand before settling down and letting her human stroke her some more before taking off, winging her way to Hermione's house.

Harry sighed before dragging his things out of sight of the streets and any cameras before quickly shrinking his trunk and Hedwig's cage, putting them in his pocket. Satisfied that he wouldn't be drawing too many looks he began walking, not worried about being tracked for underage magic considering his proximity to his destination, and not really caring regardless. Any respect he had for the Ministry's laws was pretty much dead anyway, at this point.

It took a few minutes, but eventually he made it to the Leaky Cauldron. Putting on a cap that he'd bought off of a nearly vibrating Colin Creevey for a few sickles and pulling it low to hide his face under the brim he made his way into the pub, his eyes darting around warily for anybody that might recognize him.

He was struck by the atmosphere of the usually jovial pub once he was fully inside. Where before it had been full of people talking or relaxing over a drink and a meal, now everybody was tense and wary. Everybody eyed each other suspiciously, and what conversation could be heard was quiet and muted.

When Harry walked in every eye turned to him, making him freeze for a moment, worried they knew who he was despite his flimsy disguise. Once they'd determined he wasn't an obvious Death Eater, however, they all turned back to what they were doing without giving him another thought, letting Harry release a breath of relief.

Quickly he made his way to the back of the pub, where the entrance to Diagon Alley was located, not getting a second glance despite the obvious tension in his frame. Apparently in the current climate that was particularly good camouflage.

Once the entryway had opened Harry quickly made his way to Gringotts, his head down so his hat would hide his face better. Thankfully, however, there wasn't that much traffic in the Alley. A few families here and there with kids he recognized from Hogwarts, stopping by on their way home from Kings' Cross. Otherwise the place was almost deserted, the news of Voldemort's return obviously dampening the atmosphere and keeping people in their homes.

He paused briefly when he saw a storefront hidden by a large, garishly colored tarp, a sign reading '_Coming Soon: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes' _stamped on it. He blinked slightly, surprised, before a smile curled his lips as he saw that the twins were moving forward with their dream, apparently putting his initial investment to good use.

Eventually he reached Gringotts, finding it much emptier than he was used to upon walking in. Quickly making his way to one of the tellers he pulled out his key, doing his best to not seem suspicious. "I'm here to make a withdrawal, and inquire about any services you might offer." He said quickly, having learned from Bill that being direct and not bothering with pleasantries was the best way to deal with the goblins.

The goblin he was addressing looked up from the gold he was counting. "What sort of services?" He asked curtly.

"I need a muggle passport along with anything else needed for travel, and hopefully some way of making purchases in the muggle world without carrying a large amount of various currencies around on my person."

The goblin eyed him for a few moments before nodding. "That can all be arranged. For a moderate fee, of course. Go make your withdrawal, and afterwards you will be led to the goblin in charge of such requests."

Harry nodded back before following the goblin the teller had called over, quickly getting into the cart and holding on as they quickly thundered to his vault, enjoying the ride while he could. Upon reaching his vault he grabbed a money pouch and hesitated, considering how much he'd need. In the end he decided to err on the side of caution and grab a significant amount. He couldn't know how much he'd need, after all. He wouldn't be surprised if he ended up needing to make an emergency purchase of some kind at some point.

Once he'd scooped more gold than he'd ever had on his person at one time into the pouch he quickly got back onto the cart. After another quick and hectic cart ride he was led by his goblin guide to a small office in which younger seeming goblin sat behind a desk full of various odd items that Harry could only assume were relevant to his job.

"You're the one wanting identification and such for mundane travel, then?" The goblin, who's desk nameplate indicated was Clutchclaw, growled at him.

"Yes." Harry said as he sat in one of the uncomfortable chairs in front of the goblin's desk. "I plan on travelling around the world as much as possible, but I'm not really sure what's needed beyond a passport." He admitted. "Some sort of identification beside that, I imagine. Also, I want something like a debit card that I can use for muggle purchases, if possible, so I'm not carrying half my vault's worth of currency all the time."

"Surprisingly sensible for a young wizard." Clutchclaw grunted. "That can all be provided. Travel papers and identification will be five galleons for each country you wish to visit. For seventy-five, however, we can provide a set of papers that will allow you into any country for up to a year, though if you wish to move to another country permanently that will require other paperwork. And we do indeed have a debit card, though few request it, as not many make large or numerous enough purchases in the non-magical world to require one. It will be a ten galleon fee for that."

"That all sounds perfect." Harry said with a small smile. "Can you take the fees directly from my vault?" At the goblin's nod he sat back. "Right, then I want the seventy-five galleon paper set and the debit card." He tried not to flinch at the predatory smirk of satisfaction on the goblin's face at his words.

What followed was a half hour of paper signing and picture taking as Clutchclaw prepared the papers. Soon Harry had everything he could conceivably need for travelling around the world, identification-wise, at least.

"I do believe that this has been a profitable exchange for both of us." The goblin stated as he efficiently signed a final paper. "Are there any other services you might need?" The glint in the banker's eyes stated he hoped there was.

Harry hesitated before nodding. "Is there any way to keep the Ministry from tracking underage magic?"

Clutchclaw sat back, steepling his fingers in front of himself. "You mean besides reserving casting to areas of high concentration such as Diagon Alley and Hogwarts?" He asked rhetorically. "There is indeed a way to remove the Trace, but it is generally... prohibitively expensive."

"How much?" Harry asked instantly.

"Three hundred galleons." Was the equally quick response.

Harry pursed his lips in thought, but in the end it really wasn't much choice. "Deal."

"Excellent." The goblin said with a large, toothy grin as he got out of his seat. "I'll be back in a minute." He proceeded to leave Harry alone in the office, giving the teen a chance to think.

Harry knew he was committed to his plan now. If nothing else than because he needed to make the expenses he just incurred worth it. Not that he was wavering before that, this just made his decision more concrete.

It took five minutes, but soon enough Clutchclaw was back with a vial full of a greenish potion in hand. He handed it to Harry with a small smirk. "All you need to do is drink this, Mr. Potter. I advise you, however, that I've been told it is… unpleasant."

Harry frowned but took the potion, eyeing it before sighing and downing it in a single gulp. It took a moment before anything happened, but when it did it was definitely noticeable. Harry dropped the vial with a grunt and a gasp, bending over as he felt a brief yet fiery pain all over his body. Even by his own somewhat skewed standards of pain it rated pretty high, but he didn't let out any further sound even as he grit his teeth.

Thankfully the pain was gone as quickly as it had arrived, and Harry stood up straight again, breathing slightly heavily. When he did so he found Clutchclaw looking at him with a raised eyebrow. "What?"

"Usually when one of the pureblood elites get their parents to purchase that potion for them they scream quite heavily, giving me the impression it is extremely painful, especially considering the insults they tend to hurl at me afterwards." The goblin sneered. "I suppose from your own reaction they were just soft."

"Probably." Harry admitted, not having a favorable impression of almost any of what would be called 'elites' in Hogwarts. "I think that's all I need from you today. Now I just need to go buy travel necessities."

Clutchclaw grunted. "I suppose I can inform you that Cassandra's Emporium would be your best option for buying what you may need." He said as he moved back behind his desk. "The proprietor has a special magical skill that should be of good use to you."

Harry eyed the goblin for a moment. "You get a commission if I shop there, don't you?" He asked blandly, getting another toothy grin in response.

"Astute of you. Still, the advice is sound. Even Gringotts directs our human employees to her for things we cannot or will not provide." He said simply.

Harry considered that before nodding. "Alright, I'll give it a try. Thanks." With that he walked out as the goblin waved him away.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Harry stood in front of Cassandra's Emporium, which was the first shop down Knockturn Alley, in the area that people were still willing to be seen in. He remembered spotting it during the summer before his third year, when he explored Diagon Alley for fun. He'd always assumed it was dark simply because it was technically in Knockturn Alley. Now that he was a bit older he realized that was a slightly shortsighted view, though he still kept his guard up.

Walking in he heard a bell chime, followed by a woman's voice coming from the back. "I'll be with you in just a second!"

Harry looked around the store as he waited. It had various odds and ends, including books on various subjects which Harry could tell Hermione would be interested in, wizarding games and toys, appliances such as Wizarding Wireless players, and other such things. It reminded Harry of Borgin and Burkes further down the alley, though nowhere near as dark.

Eventually the proprietor came out from the back of the shop. She was a good looking middle aged woman, with a slim figure, aristocratic face, and long black hair with streaks of white in it. Her most distinguishing feature, however, was her pink eyes, which locked on him as soon as she appeared. "Hello, good sir. I am Cassandra. Welcome to my emporium. What can I help you with today?"

"Clutchclaw from Gringotts recommended me to you." Harry said as he moved closer to the counter Cassandra was standing beside. "I'm planning on doing some travelling and he directed me to you when I mentioned I needed travelling supplies. Said something about you having a skill I might find useful?"

"Indeed?" Cassandra asked, amused. "Usually they don't reveal my ability so blatantly. You must have given them quite a bit of gold." Then she nodded. "I have a particular version of third sight. I cannot tell you the future, or any other form of conventional divination. What I can do is take a look at a person and know what they might find useful in the immediate future, up to approximately a year."

Harry leaned forward, interested. "Really? I haven't heard of something like that before. Could you give an example?"

"I'm not surprised." She admitted. "It's a hereditary skill that my family is careful with. It's rather potent, after all. As an example, I might look at an auror and know that they might find a pocket watch of use. I won't know why or how in the moment, but later it'll turn out that the auror had the watch in their breast pocket when a curse was cast at them, taking the brunt of the attack and saving their life." Cassandra smiled, amused at the look on his face. "It's usually something like that, though it can occasionally be more striaghtforward, such as a water bottle you might need while travelling through a hot area."

Harry, for his part, was astonished. That sounded like an immensely useful skill. He could see why she was surprised Clutchclaw alluded to it, even obliquely. She would be in a lot of danger if Death Eaters found out about it. "I promise not to tell anyone. Though I will bring my friends around to shop from here eventually."

Cassandra smirked. "You'll get no complaints from me. I am running a business, after all."

"Alright, what do you recommend for me, then?" Harry asked, interested.

The woman gave him a sharp, penetrating look with her pink eyes before moving about the shop. She set a knife that reminded Harry painfully of the one he'd broken in the Department of Mysteries down on the counter first. After that came a flask with a leather covering, a set of playing cards, and three books.

Harry picked up the first of the books, reading the title, 'Exploring the Magical World'. Opening it up he saw that it was a guidebook for travelers. The why she selected that was obvious, so he moved onto the next, 'The Battle Mage's Compendium'. He looked at her. "I'm guessing I'll be seeing trouble when I'm on my trip?"

Cassandra shrugged. "Maybe. Like I said, I don't know why you'd find certain things useful, just that you would. Though considering it's you, Mister Potter, I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case."

Harry grimaced, he hadn't given his name, and he was still wearing his hat. "How did you know?"

"Trade secret." The shopkeep said, tapping her nose with a smile and a wink. "Let's just say you could use a better disguise."

Harry sighed before looking at the other book, blinking when he took in the title. "A Grimoire for White Mages?" He asked, confused.

Cassandra chuckled. "It was written by a muggleborn with a liking for video games. It's a rather rare book on healing magic. Some of the spells are pretty esoteric and a proper St Mungo's healer would likely turn their nose up at them, but British magicals really only have a passing acquaintance with common sense in any case.."

Harry groaned lightly. "Yep, trouble seems more and more likely in my future…" He said as he set the book down with the rest of his likely purchases. Then he looked back up at Cassandra. "Anything else?"

The woman nodded before reaching under the counter and fiddling around for ten seconds before standing back up, a slim piece of silver in her hand. "This, though you might be leery of buying it."

Harry eyed it. "Why? Is it dangerous?"

Cassandra instantly shook her head. "No, just expensive. This is a universal translator. It costs a hundred and ten galleons, but it will let you speak, read and write any human language. This is the only one I have."

Harry eyed it with interest. "Really? I didn't know these kinds of things existed. You'd think I'd stop being surprised by magic at some point."

"Well, they are pretty rare, because the languages need to be individually programmed into each one." Cassandra admitted. "You hear of Barty Crouch? It's said that he bought a more expensive version of one of these, which is why he could speak so many human and non-human languages. Not that he ever admitted it before he went missing."

"I see…" Harry said slowly before pulling his money pouch off his belt. "How much for the lot?"

Cassandra smiled, pleased that he wasn't going to be a customer who fought her on her recommendations over cost or pride. "That'll be a hundred and fifty galleons, six sickles and two knuts."

Harry handed the appropriate amount to the woman, glad he'd decided to draw as much money as he had. Then he picked up the translator. "Alright, now how do I use this?"

"Simply set it on your tongue. It'll do the rest on its own." Was the instruction he was given.

Shrugging to himself he did as told, setting the small bit of silver on his tongue. Almost immediately he felt it melt, the cold metal moving to completely cover his tongue before sinking into the flesh. It was an odd and unpleasant sensation that lingered even after it was over. "Did it work?" Harry asked as he licked the inside of his mouth and smacked his lips in a futile attempt to get rid of the phantom sensation.

"You tell me." Cassandra said in Italian. Harry blinked as he understood precisely what she said, even though he could also distinctly tell it wasn't English. It was quite an interesting experience.

"Seems so…" He replied experimentally in the same language, finding the way his mouth moved with the unfamiliar words odd, though not unpleasant.

"Excellent." Cassandra responded in German this time. "Soon enough it'll be second nature and you won't even notice it."

"I'll take your word for it." Harry said slowly, obviously still getting used to the oddity.

The shopkeep bagged the rest of his purchases before handing them to him to put in his trunk. "Need anything else? You don't just need to buy what I recommend, after all."

"Unless you sell muggle electronics then no, sorry." Harry said as he reshrunk his trunk.

Cassandra leaned on the counter. "Muggle electronics, eh? Wanting a laptop to use while you commute, I'm guessing?"

Harry nodded, surprised not only that she guessed right, but that she knew what a laptop was. "Yeah. I plan on travelling the muggle way as much as possible. Less chance of Voldemort or Dumbledore tracking me that way."

To Cassandra's credit she only flinched slightly at Voldemort's name. "Makes sense. I doubt most wizards could even read the train schedule at King's Cross, much less Heathrow."

"Right, and as much as I like a good book, I don't want to spend all my time reading." Harry said.

"Well, you're right that I don't have any I could sell you, but I can still help you out." Cassandra said with a smile.

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised.

The woman nodded. "My best friend's daughter is a squib. She never let it get her down, though. She's doing really well in secondary school and plans to study engineering in university." She said, obviously pleased to talk about someone she cared about. "She's working as a sales assistant in a computer and entertainment shop not too far from the Leaky Cauldron. I generally direct any magicals needing electronics to her. She'll get a commision off of anything you buy, but I doubt you'll complain. She's not the type to cheat you, though she'll probably try to upsell you a bit."

Harry considered the offer. "Well, unlike most magicals I'm not completely helpless in the muggle world. That said, the help of someone who actually knows what they're talking about would definitely be helpful." He ended up nodding his agreement to the idea as Cassandra smiled before proceeding to give him directions.

* * *

Ten minutes after leaving Cassandra's, and the Alley itself, behind, Harry walked into the shop the seer had directed him to. The inside was full of computers, televisions, game systems and mobile phones on display. Movies were being shown on the televisions as music played from overhead speakers. Harry had to take a moment to take it all in, having never really had the opportunity to go to a similar establishment.

A pretty brown haired and eyed girl a couple of years older than he was in the uniform of a sales assistant approached him with a professional smile on her face. "Hi!" She chirped perkily. "Can I help you with anything?"

Harry turned his attention from a nearby TV showing an action movie heavy on special effects to look at her. "Hello. I'm looking for Calliope Kane?"

The girl blinked, thrown for a moment, before an amused smile appeared on her lips. "Aunt Cassie send you to me?" At his nod she clapped her hands. "Great! Well, you have my name. Can I have yours?"

Harry hesitated for a moment before deciding he'd likely be long gone before she was able to tell anyone. "Harry Potter."

Calliope's eyes widened for a moment before her eyes flicked to his forehead, Harry obligingly taking his hat off briefly to let her see the scar before putting it back on. "Oh wow. It's an honor, Mr. Potter. Just so you know, I never believed the Ministry's bullshite. As a squib I know better than to take those elitist arsehole's at their word."

Harry's lips quirked up briefly. "Thanks, that's nice to hear. Call me Harry."

She smiled back. "Callie." She said. Then she clapped her hands again. "Alright, now that introductions are out of the way, what were you looking for, Harry? I take it from the fact that you don't look like a flobberworm that got smacked in the face with a trout that you have some idea?"

Harry nodded. "I'm going to be travelling some this summer, mostly by muggle means. I was hoping for something for entertainment. Probably a laptop that I can use to watch movies or play the occasional game on."

Callie was nodding before he'd even finished. "Alright, if you're hoping to play some good games it's going to be a bit pricey. Will that be a problem?"

Harry took his hat off and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm going to be honest, Callie. I've had an absolutely shit year, and what with Voldemort running around… Well, let's just say I'm not thinking too much on being fiscally responsible. I'm not going to go completely nuts, but…" He shrugged.

Callie nodded solemnly after the obligatory Voldemort flinch. "I understand. Well, let me show you our slightly higher end options, then we can discuss games and videos you can use it for."

In the end Harry spent longer in that store than he'd expected. Callie helped him choose a nice computer that would let him run powerful games with minimal trouble. It was expensive as stated before, but Harry believed he'd be able to get plenty of use out of it.

Then they'd proceeded to discuss media. He was surprised that she was not when he told her he had basically no clue when it came to the latest in pop culture beyond his entry into Hogwarts, and even before that he was spotty. Of course, Callie pointed out that most of the people Cassandra sent her way barely even knew what a movie was, so she was used to it.

In the end she convinced him to buy several Blu-Rays, get Netflix and Spotify subscriptions, and set up a Steam account before adding several games Callie swore by to his wishlist. She told him he could experiment from there.

Last on the list was a mobile phone. Callie was surprised that he'd want one, but when Harry gave his reasons she saw the sense in it, along with the fact that Harry had obviously been thinking ahead. Quickly enough they chose one of the latest models with high storage capacity, set up his account and a plan with international roaming, and before everything was done several applications and games Callie recommended were downloading to it.

With his phone in his pocket and his new laptop in an equally new laptop holding backpack Callie led him out of the store, the girl herself feeling good about helping him out while getting a substantial commission sale in the process. "Feel free to call me if you need more tech advice or want more recommendations on media." She told him with a smile, having added her number to his phone. And no, she was not going to brag to her few magically aware friends that she'd given Harry Potter her number. Not at all.

Harry nodded with a smile. "I will. Thanks a lot. You and Cassandra have been a big help."

Callie shrugged, her smile turning teasing. "Well, it wasn't all altruistic, you know. We both got money out of you."

Harry chuckled and nodded again. "Alright, I need to get going. Still have a few more purchases to make before I'm done."

Callie waved as Harry began walking away. "Don't be a stranger!"

Harry waved back before turning the corner and leaving her sight.

* * *

Another hour of shopping led to Harry having a new wardrobe that actually fit him. He'd decided that if he was going to travel the world, he wasn't going to do so looking like a homeless person. Soon enough he was walking back into King's Cross Station dressed in black jeans, black leather boots, and a crimson t-shirt with the golden image of a lion's head with a crown on top of it's mane that showed off his slender, lightly muscled body to great effect. At least, that's what he'd been told by the sales associate. All of that combined with new glasses with slimmer and more oval frames made him almost unrecognizable.

Buying a ticket for the next train leaving for the first destination he'd selected, Harry made his way through the throngs of people, heart hammering in his chest. Knowing his luck, this was the point at which his plans would go bad, with either a Death Eater or an Order Member seeing him and trying to capture him. Honestly, at this point he wasn't sure which option would be worse.

He was vaguely surprised when he took his seat in the first class section of the train, a kind attendant helping him get situated. He was sipping a drink when the train began to move, and he looked out at the crowds of people beginning to pass by with more and more speed. It was only when the train finally left London that he managed to relax, a smile appearing on his face.

Pulling out his phone he hesitated, glancing at the number he'd pre-programmed into it. Then, biting the bullet, he pressed the call button. The line rang three times before a man answered.

"Hello, this is Harry Potter. Could I speak to Hermione, please?"

* * *

_**Welcome, one and all, to the winner of the New Story Patron Poll, Finding Healing!**_

_**Of the options I gave for which new story would at the least get a first chapter, this came in first with 15 votes. The other options each got 9, 3, and 0. So it seems people really wanted to see this.**_

_**So, as I've stated before and is otherwise obvious, this story was inspired by Make A Wish, by Rorschach's Blot. If you haven't read it, it is old, written before HBP came out, but still excellent. And before anybody asks, I did indeed send him a PM asking for permission to use his idea and certain elements from it, which he graciously gave.**_

_**This story is going to be a bit different, however. Whereas MaW was primarily a comedy with occasionally serious moments, this is going to play the idea of Harry getting the hell out of England to get his head on straight (mostly) straight. Absurd situations are still going to happen to him, because seriously, this is Harry we're talking about, but they won't be quite so comedic.**_

_**Another difference is the fact that I'm not nearly as well travelled as RB at least made the appearance of being. I've only ever been three places in the world, if we don't count the airports I stopped at on the way to each of those. So most of my knowledge of the places Harry'll be going will be coming from Google. Thus I offer my most sincere apologies for any mistakes I make, or any offence incurred by citizens of those locations.**_

_**Yet another difference is the time period. Much like Brightest in Shadow, this takes place in current day. Summer of 2019, basically. At least insofar as things such as pop culture go. I'm going to avoid mentioning political issues such as Bexit and various other clusterfucks throughout the world as much as possible. Hell, maybe I'll say the referendum never got proposed in this reality because a wizard with common sense Imperioused David Cameron out of it. I don't know. I just don't want to deal with politics if I can help it.**_

_**In any case, I hope this satisfied as setup for the globetrotting that will be going on. Next chapter will be everyone discovering and dealing with Harry's vanishing act as he begins enjoying himself.**_

_**Don't forget that I have a Pat A Ron at dotcom /athanmortis, where you get a vote count equal to your donation you can choose to vote for which of my stories I update. Finding Healing is not on the poll for September because I hadn't finished the first chapter before I posted it, but it'll be an option for October. In the meantime, feel free to vote for any of the other options.**_

_**I think that's all there is to say. Till next time!**_


	2. The Hunt Begins

Hermione sighed as she neatly put her things away in her room after having just arrived home from Hogwarts. She was immensely happy to be back with her parents, the previous year making her miss them all the more, but that didn't change the fact that it didn't feel right to leave Harry alone after he'd just had to endure Sirius' death.

She would write him as much as possible, of course. She'd learned her lesson from last summer about isolating her friend after a traumatic event. He was already constantly stressed, and she needed to support him as much as possible.

She'd discussed the situation with Ron, and they'd both agreed that they'd ignore the Order when it came to contact with Harry if they had to. They wouldn't be stupid about sharing information, but leaving Harry alone with people he hated was not something either of them would be willing to tolerate now.

Honestly, sometimes she could believe the rumors that Dumbledore had gone senile. While his actions were somewhat valid from a security standpoint, he was practically pushing Harry towards the edge himself.

Thinking about Harry's family circumstances brought to mind her own. She loved her parents, but she couldn't deny that they'd been drifting apart. And she could begrudgingly admit it was mostly her fault.

Boarding school was hardly conducive to keeping in touch properly, but a boarding school the parents couldn't visit or reach their child at easily was even worse. It used to be that her family would spend those few months of summer on holiday wherever they could, simply being together and making memories. She'd especially enjoyed their journeys into the rest of Europe. But over the years she'd begun to spend more of that time in the wizarding world, staying with the Weasleys or at Grimmould place. They may not say anything, but Hermione knew her parents were afraid they were losing her for good. Especially considering how evasive she was about the things going on in her life.

What was she supposed to do, however? Tell her nice, normal parents that their daughter had embroiled herself into a civil war with a bunch of supremacists that saw her the same way the Nazis had viewed the Jews? She'd find herself living in Australia within the week. And she absolutely refused to run away, to let Harry and Ron face Voldemort and his Death Eaters on their own.

So she kept her silence even as the guilt increased each time she had to lie to her parents, who only wanted to be part of her life. She kept promising to herself that she'd make it up to them when everything was over and Voldemort was defeated. She'd take them on a world tour, visiting magical and mundane sights, showing them the wonders of both worlds.

She told herself that, but it didn't make the guilt go away.

She looked up in surprise as a tapping came from her window, wondering who could be sending her a letter already. She was especially surprised when she found Hedwig sitting on the windowsill, waiting to be let in.

Hermione was confused, as Harry never sent letters so soon. He generally waited a day to settle in before sending his first. Hoping that everything was alright she opened the window, letting the beautiful snowy owl alight on the perch she'd bought for any visiting post birds.

"Hello Hedwig. I'm sorry, I don't have any food or treats ready." The bushy haired witch said as she approached to relieve the bird of her burden. She stopped in surprise when she saw that Hedwig did not have any letters on her. "What the…?" She murmured before being interrupted by her father calling up the stairs.

"Hermione, you have a phone call!" She heard him say.

"Coming!" She called back as she gave Hedwig one last look before moving toward the door. As she did so she couldn't help but wonder who could be calling her. She didn't have any mundane friends, and her extended family was small.

Taking the handset from her father with a thankful smile she brought it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hello Hermione." Harry's familiar voice said.

"Harry?" She said with confused happiness. "What's going on? You've never phoned me before, and Hedwig just arrived without a letter. Is everything alright?"

She heard Harry let out a sigh. "So she got there. Good." Then he paused, and just as she was about to prompt him to continue he dropped the bombshell on her. "I'm currently on my way out of the country, Mione, so please take care of her."

Hermione swore her heart stopped in shock. "W-what?"

"I'm leaving the UK for the summer." He said calmly.

"Harry, no! It's not safe!" She said frantically, vaguely aware that her parents were watching from the doorway to the sitting room.

"I'll be fine, Mione." He said soothingly. "You don't have to worry. The odds of me running into Death Eaters are low, and I have plenty of money on me."

"Where are you even going?" She asked as she clutched the handset in a death grip.

She heard him huff a laugh. "I'm not dumb enough to tell you that, you know. You'd have the Order combing the place for me within the hour." She heard him sigh, and could practically see him running his fingers through his messy hair. "If it will keep you from worrying I will say that I'm heading somewhere that I can speak the language." He gave a slight chuckle. "I'm kinda nervous about flying the mundane way, but also looking forward to it, you know?"

Hermione immediately began to mentally list what English speaking countries her brother in all but blood could be going to. It was quite a wide selection, if he was travelling by plane. "Harry, you don't know the first thing about international travel."

"I'm a quick study when it's something I actually need to learn." He said with amusement, which she grudgingly agreed with. "Besides, I always did want to see more than just a bit of Britain a small area of Scotland."

"You are planning to come back in time for the next school year, of course?" She asked with a dangerous edge to her voice.

Another small laugh. "Wouldn't miss it. I just wanted a better holiday than sitting in Durzkaban for the rest of the summer." He went silent for a moment before speaking a bit more quietly. "I couldn't handle being there after… everything."

Hermione felt her heart clench at the way he said the words. "We could have worked something out, Harry." She said gently. "You could have come and visited me instead. You didn't have to do this."

He was silent for a long moment. "Yeah, I kinda did, Hermione." He perked up after that. "Don't worry though, I'll call you every once in a while to let you know I'm doing alright. You'll no doubt pass it along to the Order, so it'll save me from writing those letters Moody demanded."

She sighed, knowing that there was nothing else she could say to convince him to change his mind. "You better call me at least every other day." She said sternly.

"I will." He assured her. "And don't worry, I'll make sure to get plenty of souvenirs."

"That's not what I'm worrying about at the moment, Harry." She groused.

"Really? So I shouldn't keep an eye out for interesting books full of magic not taught in the UK?" He teased.

Hermione bit her lip. "Well… Maybe one or two?"

He chuckled. "I figured." He paused briefly. "Alright, I should get off the phone. I have an interesting book to read, and you're no doubt itching to go write the Order to let them know I left and have them look for me."

She blushed slightly. "Alright Harry. I'll be expecting your call in two days."

"You'll get it." He assured her. "Bye."

"Bye." She said before pulling the handset away from her ear once the tone sounded, staring at it briefly before turning it off.

"Hermione?" Her mother asked, worried.

As though that had been the signal she'd been waiting for the bushy haired witch tore upstairs, immediately grabbing her writing utensils once she reached her room, beginning to hurriedly write a letter to Dumbledore.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ophelia Granger asked as she entered her daughter's room, her husband, Christopher, peering in behind her.

Hermione slowed her writing, biting her lip, wondering what to say. Finally she decided that most of the truth, with a few omissions, should be good enough. Turning to them she began explaining. "It's Harry…"

"We figured as much." Christopher said slightly sardonically only to get elbowed by his wife.

"Right. Well, less than a month ago his godfather died. Sirius was the only real family Harry had." Hermione said softly. "He lives with his aunt and uncle, but from what I know they don't… get along…"

Ophelia and Christopher glanced at each other darkly. They may be dentists, but as medical professionals they had still been given training involving potential abuse. Still, they didn't say anything, letting their daughter continue.

"Harry called to say he's leaving the country, but it's dangerous, so I need to write to Professor Dumbledore so he can be brought back." Hermione explained before turning back to the letter.

"Why is it so dangerous for him to travel?" Ophelia asked. "Besides the fact that he's an unaccompanied minor?"

Hermione froze. That was a question she'd hoped wouldn't be asked. Her mind raced as she tried to come up with an explanation that wouldn't trigger her parents' overprotective reactions.

The fact that wanting to get your teenage daughter out of a warzone was in no way overprotective was lost on her. Years of dangerous situations and association with Harry Potter had skewed her perspective on danger more than a bit.

"Harry's godfather was murdered by someone with a grudge against Harry's family." She finally decided to say. "He's likely still after Harry. His relatives' house has magical protections to keep him safe, but if he's out who knows where…"

"I see." Hermione's mother said. She and her husband both knew Hermione was holding something back, but they'd decided not to push just yet.

Hermione finished the letter and moved over to Hedwig. "Hedwig, would you mind taking this to Professor Dumbledore?"

The owl stared at her human's friend imperiously for a few moments before holding her leg out to have the letter attached. Hermione quickly did so, and the bird swiftly winged her way out the window, heading off to deliver her message.

Hermione slumped, sighing tiredly and rubbing her forehead. "Oh Harry, you never make things easy on me, do you?"

* * *

Ron was sitting on his bed, doing something he rarely did without outside prompting: he was studying one of his school spellbooks.

His performance in the Department of Mysteries had weighed on him ever since he was lucid enough after being attacked by those brains to understand what had happened. He was Harry's oldest friend after Hagrid, the one who'd (mostly) stuck by the other boy through thick and thin. He'd faced more dangerous situations than almost any of his peers. But even after all of that, after the training in the DA and a DaDA OWL test he was pretty sure he aced, he'd been taken out early and become more of a liability than an asset.

He glanced at the remains of the scarring the brains had left on his arms. Could things have turned out differently if he hadn't been taken out of the fight? Could Sirius still be alive? He didn't know, and it was killing him.

Ron knew he was going to wind up on the frontlines of the coming war, no matter what his mother wanted. Even if he wasn't Harry Potter's best friend, he was a member of one of the most prominent 'blood traitor' families. The battle of the Department of Mysteries had underscored that fact. One would have thought that Cedric's death would have hammered the point home, but he hadn't seen that happen in front of his eyes. Now he'd been in a high profile battle, and it had opened his eyes, making him curse himself for a fool.

Make no mistake, he still wasn't the studious type. He'd never be Hermione, and Ravenclaw would probably be the second to last house he'd be considered for. But there was a difference between studying to get good marks and studying to improve his odds of survival.

He was making a note of another spell he thought Harry should teach the DA if they reconvened next year when his mother opened the door after quickly knocking twice, a habit that annoyed the hell out of him the older he got. That was in no way enough of a warning. What if he was doing something… embarrassing… after all?

"Ron, come down to the kitchen." Molly Weasley said with a troubled look on her face. "Professor Dumbledore wants to talk to you. He brought Hermione with him."

Ron blinked, surprised at the news. They'd just gotten back from Hogwarts. What could possibly be wrong already?

Getting up he set his book aside, acting like he didn't notice his mother's raised eyebrow at the sudden studiousness. She looked over at the book, probably checking for a porno mag hidden in the pages. He remembered her catching the twins doing that once. The row that followed had been the stuff of legends.

Reaching the kitchen he stopped in his tracks when he found not just Hermione and Dumbledore, but quite a bit of the Order there as well. Feeling a sense of unease grow in his gut he took a seat between Hermione and Fred. Or George. He was too distracted to care, though he did wonder why they were there when they'd moved out and weren't actually members of the Order.

"Thank you for coming, everybody." Dumbledore said genially, though a serious glint was present in his eyes. "Less than an hour ago I received a message from Miss Granger with important news that must be acted upon immediately. This information was received alongside a report by Nymphadora which corroborated the news. Miss Granger, if you would?"

As Hermione shifted slightly under everybody's attention Ron turned to her even as he noted that Tonks hadn't bothered correcting Dumbledore on her name. The auror looked more subdued than usual, her hair brown and limp. Putting it out of his mind he focused on his friend.

"Earlier today I received a telephone call from Harry." She said, and quickly plowed on before anybody could ask what she was talking about, though Ron remembered his own disastrous attempt at using a telephone with a wince. "He said he was currently on his way out of the country."

It took a moment for what Hermione had said to register, but when it did Ron practically jumped to his feet. "He was WHAT!?" He nearly shouted.

"I take it this means you were unaware of Harry's plans, Mister Weasley?" Dumbledore asked.

Ron sat back down with a heavy thump, running his palm along his pace. "Bloody hell, Harry…"

Still, now that he'd gotten over the initial shock, Ron wasn't actually all that surprised. Harry had been more subdued than usual since the Department of Mysteries, which was understandable. He'd been becoming more and more stressed as the year went on anyway, Umbridge and the constant attacks by the Ministry driving him further and further up the wall. His only relief had been the DA, and even that had disappeared eventually.

Harry needed to destress, or he was going to snap and go full dark lord on the next person to piss him off, and Ron wouldn't blame him for doing so. He'd had far too much shite piled onto his shoulders.

He still wish he'd have gotten some warning, though.

"The boy was probably lying for attention." Snape sneered.

Dumbledore shook his head, ignoring the glares everybody was giving his spy. "Nymphadora was stationed at the house of Harry's relatives. She says they arrived without him, and even after waiting for some time he never arrived separately."

"Did he say where he was going?" Ginny asked from where she sat on Hermione's other side once everybody had let that sink in.

"All he said was that he was heading somewhere he could speak the language and that he was travelling by flying in muggle style." Hermione said. "Since there isn't a country that speaks exclusively in parseltongue, he's going to an English speaking country. The most likely places I can think of are Ireland, the United States, Canada, South Africa and Australia, though there are obviously others."

"I have contacts in several of those countries." Dumbledore said. "I'll assign whoever is available to travel to the most likely ports of entry of each location and search for Harry. We need to bring him back quickly."

"Especially as the Dark Lord has dispatched high ranking Death Eaters to various places throughout the world." Snape said as everybody was glancing at each other, wondering where they'd be sent. The group's attention was dragged back to the greasy haired potions master. "He is moving openly now that news of his return is spreading. He's using the fact that he, in his words, 'conquered death', in order to rally other magicals and dark creatures to his cause."

"If Potter runs into one of those Death Eaters, they'll capture him and bring him to their master." Moody said gruffly. "If that happens, we'll be in deep shite."

Everybody began to murmur worriedly. Dumbledore motioned for calm. "Please everybody, calm yourselves. Yes, this is worrisome, but it is simply more incentive to find Harry quickly." He turned back to Hermione. "Miss Granger, you managed to get Harry to agree to call you every two days, didn't you?"

"Yes sir." She said with a nod. "I got him to promise to call me at my home the day after tomorrow."

"Good." Dumbledore said with a nod of his own. "When he calls, please do your best to get any information as to his whereabouts you can, assuming we haven't located him by then." When Hermione nodded he turned back to the assembled Order members. "Please wait while I assign you locations to search in, please. Otherwise this meeting is adjourned."

The mass of people occupying the tiny kitchen got up and stretched, Snape leaving immediately. Ron got up and led Hermione outside into the evening light, speaking lowly. "You're sure he didn't say where he was going?"

Hermione shook her head. "No. Only those clues he gave me." She bit her lip. "You think he'll be alright?"

"This is Harry we're talking about." One of the twins said from behind them, having followed the two. "He's definitely going to get into loads of trouble."

"And he's just as definitely going to get out of it." The second twin said with a smirk. "Merlin himself wouldn't be able to kill Harry after everything he's been through."

Ginny grinned, though a trace of worry shadowed her eyes. "They're right. If Harry could make it through everything life has thrown at him so far, a small vacation isn't going to do much."

Hermione sighed and looked up at the darkening sky. "I hope you're right…"

* * *

Night had fallen, and Harry stood on the balcony of his five star hotel suite in a fluffy bathrobe after a shower, looking over the spectacle of the lights of Paris, the Eiffel Tower dominating the view.

After spending part of his trip to France watching Iron Man and the rest trying out a few games, all of which Callie recommended, Harry had been starved despite the snacks served on the train. He hadn't actually eaten anything substantial since that morning at Hogwarts.

He'd been tempted to simply go to the McDonalds near the station and grab a burger, but being in another country he forced himself to try something new. Getting in a cab and asking to be taken to a good restaurant, he'd had an excellent french meal, much different than his usual fare. Then he'd taken another cab to one of the best hotels in the city.

Originally the employees had been skeptical of him, which he found completely understandable, but once his debit card had been charged for the large amount of money they were asking for per night they were more than willing to serve his every need.

Stretching lightly Harry yawned. He glanced over at one of the suite's clocks to find that it was getting late. Wanting to have plenty of time to sightsee in the morning he quickly closed the balcony doors, put his new pajamas on, and flopped onto the excessively large and comfortable bed. He was out like a light in seconds.

* * *

_**Yay new chapter!**_

_**I figured that as my newest story I should post a second chapter of this before adding it to the patron poll. Especially considering the positive reception this fic has received.**_

_**So the Order is now scrambling to find Harry before the Death Eaters run into him while said chosen one arrives in France on the first step of his world tour. I think we all know where this is going.**_

_**One thing I forgot to mention in the last AN is that I'm not taking the Fantastic Beasts movies into account for this fic. I didn't really like either one (the second less than the first) and honestly don't remember much about them beyond a few scenes and creature designs. As such anything those movies revealed about the magical world outside of the UK is not going to be considered canon. I'm making up my own thing for this fic.**_

_**Not much else to say, so I'll end this note with the customary reminder that you can have a voice in what I write by donating to my Pat A Ron which is dotcom /athanmortis. Each dollar you donate gives you one vote for any of the stories up for consideration on the monthly poll. The current poll ends on the 30th, and after that a new one will be put up.**_

_**Thanks again for all your support, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Goodbye, and please review!**_


	3. Antiques

Harry woke the next morning feeling more relaxed than he had in ages. The weights of Sirius' death and the prophecy were still there, but just being out of Britain for a time was doing wonders to lower his stress levels.

He lay in bed for several minutes, staring at the ceiling as he considered what to do for the day. Part of him wanted to see what the magical section of Paris looked like immediately, while the rest of him was content to put off dealing with wizards for as long as possible and simply enjoy the mundane sights.

Eventually coming to a decision he called down for room service, asking them to send up something that they thought would be good for an Englishman with little experience but plenty of interest in French cuisine. Then he turned on the television to an animated show about what looked to be a girl in a ladybug themed costume as he showered and got ready for the day.

After a delicious breakfast of sweet crepes Harry got up and stretched. Exiting the room after leaving a generous tip for housekeeping (having heard Vernon complain more than once about people expecting tips for working when they should be happy with what they got and determined to do the exact opposite of what the walrus would have) he made his way out onto the streets of Paris after picking up a muggle guidebook to the city in the hotel's small convenience store.

Fifteen minutes later he was walking passed the glass pyramid outside of the Louvre, smiling as he made his way into the enormous building and grateful he'd thought to check the museum's website when he saw the crowds. Once he was inside he had to pause and take the place in before turning and heading to the mesopotamian antiquities section and beginning his tour.

Some time later, Harry was seated in one of the many cafes that were dotted throughout the Louvre for those that needed to rest their feet and get some sustenance, a cup of tea and a few light pastries in front of him. He'd walked through quite a bit of the museum, taking pictures on his phone when allowed and otherwise enjoying the art.

He normally wasn't one for such things, or at least he'd thought so, but then he'd reasoned with himself before deciding to go to the museum that he'd never actually had a chance to find out. It's not as though the Dursleys would ever take him to a museum. Or even go to one themselves without some sort of prompting. And the paintings at Hogwarts didn't count in his mind, the fact that they could move and think keeping him from considering them proper art.

So in the adventurous spirit he'd begun his trip on he'd decided to try as many new things as possible, both so he could say he'd done them and so he could learn more about himself. And so far he'd learned that he found art interesting, if not so much that he'd become an artist or art critic himself. He could see himself having a few nice pieces on the walls of his eventual home, though.

"Harry Potter?" A young voice asked from beside him, almost making him choke on his tea. He quickly turned to find a girl of about ten looking at him in surprise. He recognized her, the nearly perfect features and blonde hair sticking in his mind, though it took him a moment to remember her name.

"Gabrielle?" He asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here with my family to see the museum since Fleur came back from England for the summer." She answered promptly, beginning to smile when she realized that it was indeed Harry. She gave him a quick hug and kissed his cheeks, much to his surprise. "It's so good to see you, Harry! We've been hearing awful things." She babbled happily before blinking as she pulled back. "And when did you learn French?"

"It's something I picked up." He said before looking around. "Where are Fleur and your parents?"

"They're still looking at a few pieces, but I got bored." She answered. "They asked me to find a table to rest at so I'm not just standing around. Do you mind if we join you? I'm sure Maman and Papa would like to meet you."

As a kneejerk reaction he considered telling her no simply out of fear he'd be forced back to Britain, but he kept from blurting that out. Gabrielle looked very pleased and expectant, and he wouldn't want to hurt her that way. Besides, as long as he didn't mention he'd left without permission they should have no reason to report him to Dumbledore. And it would be nice to have somebody to talk to.

"Sure, Gabrielle. Have a seat." He said with a smile, prompting the girl to grin and quickly sit next to him.

"Thank you." She said as she settled before looking back at him.

"So you said Fleur is back from the UK? I didn't know she'd moved there..." Harry said as he sipped his tea again.

"Yes." The girl said, nodding rapidly. "Fleur got a job at Gringotts, partly to help with her English. She's enjoyed it a lot, though our parents are a bit more hesitant now that, well…" She hesitated, looking at him.

"Now that Voldemort is confirmed to be back, you mean." He said simply before nodding in understanding. "I don't blame them. I'd be trying to force her back to France if it was me."

"Well, she says she won't be coming back because she found herself a man." She said with an impish smile. "A Monsieur William Weasley. Is he related to Ron?"

Harry blinked, surprised. "Yeah, Bill's his eldest brother." He cocked his head to the side. "They're dating? I hadn't heard anything about that…"

"Fleur said she was going to be introduced to his family when she got back." Gabrielle said, kicking her feet. "She's nervous, doesn't know if they'll like her."

"I'm sure it'll be fine…" He assured her, though inwardly he wasn't as confident. Fleur was nice, in her own fashion, once she warmed up to you, but he remembered how bluntly critical and outspoken she'd been about things during her stay at Hogwarts. It'd rubbed many people (at least those not enthralled) the wrong way, and he could see how that would likely grate on Mrs. Weasley.

Suddenly realizing that he had tea and pastries but Gabrielle didn't he smiled guiltily. "Sorry Gabrielle, I got distracted talking to you. Would you like me to get you something to drink?"

The girl opened her mouth to answer when a man spoke from behind them. "We can take care of that, young man, thank you."

Harry turned around in his seat to find a short, plump man with a pointed black beard. He had a good natured smile on his face as he eyed Harry curiously, obviously wondering who he was and what his relation was to his youngest.

Behind him were two beautiful blonde women. One Harry easily recognized as Fleur, which meant that the other could only be her mother. He saw recognition flash in the younger woman's eyes, which replaced the wariness that had come from seeing her beloved younger sister with a stranger, and he stood up to greet them.

"Harry!" Fleur exclaimed happily, moving towards him and giving him a hug and a kiss on each cheek like her sister had, though this flustered him a bit more coming from her than it had Gabrielle.

"Hello Fleur." He said with a smile, returning the brief hug before turning to the adults. "Hello Monsieur and Madame Delacour. My name is Harry Potter. I met your daughters during their time at Hogwarts."

"Ah." Monsieur Delacour approached at that, his hand outstretched for a shake and a pleased smile on his face. "Yes, my girls have told us about you, Monsieur Potter. I am Jean-Luc Delacour, and this is my lovely wife, Apolline."

Harry got another hug and pair of kisses from a beautiful woman once he'd shaken Jean-Luc's hand, the eldest woman in the group providing them with a smile of her own. "Indeed, we have heard much. You have our thanks for what you did for Gabrielle during the Second Task of the tournament."

Harry blushed. "That isn't necessary. She wasn't in any danger. Honestly I feel a bit stupid I believed they would have seriously let her get hurt."

If anything the four Delacours' smiles widened at that, Apolline putting their collective thoughts into words. "Ah, but that alone is good reason to thank you, young man. You truly believed our daughter was in danger, and so you saved her. It doesn't matter if it ended up unnecessary, the fact that you did so shows your character."

Harry smiled sadly at that. "That's kind of you to say, but good intentions don't always lead to good outcomes…"

Fleur gave him another hug. "William told me about your Godfather, Harry. I'm sorry."

Harry let himself be held, simply soaking in the comfort Fleur was offering while he could. Then he moved back as she released him. "Right. Anyway, would you all care to join me for some refreshment? Wandering this museum is tiring."

Jean-Luc laughed lightly. "It is indeed. We'd be delighted."

After the French family had bought food and drinks they all sat with Harry and began to ask him about his time at Hogwarts, and Harry proceeded to respond with some of the less life threatening stories in his arsenal. Soon enough talk turned towards his vacation.

"What do you think of Paris so far, Harry?" Apolline asked as she sipped her cappuccino, a small smile on her face.

"Well, I only just arrived last night, and I was so tired that I didn't really pay attention, but so far it's been wonderful. The Louvre was my first stop to sightsee though, so I haven't seen all that much yet."

"So you have not been to the magical side of the city, then." Jean-Luc stated as he enjoyed an eclair.

"No. I figured I'd take in the mundane sights first. Why?" Harry asked.

"If you're interested in antiques and old art, I would recommend you go to Rue de la Fraternité before noon tomorrow. Nicholas Flamel is doing something unprecedented and having an estate sale, getting rid of all his valuables. All the collectors and historians in the city are going mad over the mere idea."

Fluer's eyes went wide. "He's selling all his art and artifacts? Why!?"

"There are rumors that he has decided his time on this Earth is over. The fact that every bit of coin he makes off the sale will go to various charities reinforces the notion."

Harry was silent for a moment, a pit in his gut, before he nodded to Jean-Luc. "Thank you. I believe I'll take your advice. At the very least it sounds interesting, and… I wouldn't mind meeting Monsieur Flamel…"

Gabrielle, bored of this conversation, cut in. "Are we done? I wanted to see the Renaissance section." She turned to Harry. "You'll join us, won't you, Harry? It'll be more fun to be with us than alone." She looked at him plaintively.

Harry couldn't help but smile. "Sure, I don't see why not." He chuckled when the girl cheered happily, setting aside his heavy thoughts to enjoy the rest of the day.

* * *

Harry returned to his hotel room that evening with a smile on his face after a fun day wandering about the Louvre with the Delacour family. Gabrielle had been more than happy to talk his ear off as they walked among the art, pelting him with questions and dragging him about as her family looked on with amusedly indulgent smiles on their faces. His phone was now full of pictures, and not just of the art.

Ordering some room service once again Harry got comfortable before taking a seat on one of the room's plush chairs to relax after a day full of walking. As he did his mind turned to the rest of his time in Paris. He already knew what he was going to be doing the next day, however.

Ever since Jean-Luc had informed him about Flamel's estate sale it had been in the back of his mind. He knew that, if nothing else, he needed to talk to the old alchemist about his part in the man's impending end. And the things Hermione would do to him if he didn't at least try to get her a book from Flamel's collection didn't bear thinking about. Who knows, he might even get lucky and find the thing that could kill Voldemort among all the artifacts.

Smiling in amusement at the thought he debated on what to do for the rest of the night. He could watch some television, something that he never really had much of a chance to do, but then he remembered the books Cassandra sold him because her sight told him they would be useful.

Pulling the two books out of his trunk he glanced from one to the other, trying to decide which one to start with. On the one hand, _The Battle Mage's Compendium _sounded very interesting. The title alone gave the impression of powerful and destructive spells. On the other hand, he had a halfway decent array of offensive and defensive magic in his arsenal already, and he didn't know the first thing about healing. And considering the kinds of scrapes he usually ended up getting into, a way to heal himself or others could only be a good thing.

Setting the books aside when room service knocked at the door he allowed the food in, tipping the attendant generously. Taking the cover off the meal of boeuf bourguignon Harry began to salivate, only just then realizing how hungry he was. Forgetting all about his reading material options he fell upon the food, making sure to savor it despite his hunger.

Once his stomach was satisfied Harry went back to what he had been doing. After another minute or so of consideration he turned set his charging phone to play some music from the bluetooth speaker that came with the room, though it took him a second or two to figure it out. Then he picked up _A_ _Grimoire for White Mages _and sat down to read.

* * *

The next morning Harry sipped some coffee between yawns and sleepy blinks, having gotten up early so he would have time to find the entrance to the magical district of Paris without issues.

He'd lost track of time the previous night reading the _Grimoire_, immersed in the many new spells and the simple, muggle friendly way they were explained with. He could see that Cassandra had been right about the author, as a few gaming terms were sprinkled in the text. Not in any way that would detract from the experience, but definitely enough that a pureblood would at least be a bit puzzled.

In the end he hadn't gone to bed till almost four in the morning, and he was feeling the effects of so little sleep combined with the activity from the previous day. Which was why he'd switched his habitual tea for some strong coffee.

He'd never been a huge coffee drinker before, but much as with his liking of art that was mainly due to lack of exposure. He found he rather liked some of the sweeter, flavored varieties. The one time he'd tried black coffee had been enough.

Stepping out of the cab when it stopped, once again tipping well when he paid, he looked around at where he'd ended up. It was an old, unassuming street that looked like many others in Paris. However, the guidebook he'd bought at Cassandra's backed up Jean-Luc's statement that this was the entrance to the magical center of Paris.

According to the book, he should be able to access it simply by walking through an old painting of the French flag on an even older wall. Finding the painting he glanced around before stepping through, finding himself transported, much like the entrance to Nine and Ten Quarters at Kings Cross, to someplace else. Rue Merveilleux.

It reminded him of Diagon Alley, with the older architecture that in some cases could only be held up with magic, and the many people walking about in robes, doing their shopping. However, the street was quite a bit wider, allowing more foot traffic, and it somehow seemed a bit cleaner.

Shaking off his initial reaction Harry took another sip of hot coffee and turned left, following the directions Jean-Luc had given him before they parted the previous day. He remained focused on his destination, trying not to look around too much at the many shops surrounding him so he wouldn't be sidetracked.

Soon enough he arrived at a large, official looking building, the name '_Enzo's Seller House_' on a sign above it. Seeing he'd arrived at his destination he dumped his now empty coffee cup in a bin nearby and made his way in.

Despite the time, over an hour before the sale proper would begin, there were already several people inside looking over the many things displayed on the show floor, obviously already deciding what they wanted to obtain.

Walking into the large room Harry glanced around, taking various things in. There was quite a bit of nice, nearly ancient looking furniture that would likely fetch a high price. There was a section full of artwork, both mundane and magical, paintings and sculptures, all of which had several very wealthy looking people looking over them intently. Another, much less trafficked section had what appeared to be tables covered in various trinkets and pieces of jewelry. Only two people were looking that over, but Harry wondered if that might not be where some of the more valuable pieces were. For all he knew there might be a ring that could turn you into Superman amongst all of it.

Finally he spotted the main section he wanted to look at, the books. He was not a bibliophile like Hermione was, but the idea of all the potentially powerful as all hell spells there could be among the pages definitely got his attention.

The book section had four solid oak bookcases loaded down with a multitude of books of various sizes and ages. Three people were there, a man and a woman looking over the many volumes intently, and another man observing them.

The observer was an older man of about seventy, well dressed in a high priced charcoal grey mundane suit. He had a shrewd yet oddly kind face, with blue eyes and well combed silver hair. He was watching all the people attending the sale intently, seeming almost protective of all the items.

Figuring that this man was probably someone in charge of making sure the estate sale went well Harry made his way over to speak with him before beginning his own browsing.

"Excuse me." Harry asked as he approached, drawing the older man's attention to him. "I was wondering if Nicholas Flamel was in attendance for the sale."

The man raised an eyebrow as he watched the teen approach. "May I ask why you wish to speak with him, young man?"

Harry ducked his head, feeling uncomfortable, but answering anyway. "Let's just say… I'm part of the reason he's having this estate sale in the first place…"

The man's other eyebrow joined the first before he smiled. Glancing to see that the people perusing the books had moved away he turned back to Harry. "Well now, Monsieur Potter, I wondered if we'd ever meet before my time ended…"

Harry's eyes snapped back up, understanding dawning immediately. "Monsieur Flamel?" When Flamel nodded Harry scratched the back of his head. "Oh, ah, it's nice to meet you?" He cringed at the lame words that escaped him.

"Indeed." Flamel said, amused, before holding his hand out to shake. "Call me Nicholas, though."

Harry shook the man's hand. "Harry, sir."

"I'm surprised to see you here, Harry. I figured Albus would be keeping you safe and sound in your home in Britain, considering the current troubles." Nicholas said mildly, no censure in his voice, just curiosity.

"He doesn't know I'm here." Harry admitted, hoping the multi-centenarian wouldn't turn him in. "After everything that happened last year, I couldn't handle even the thought of staying where Dumbledore wanted me. I need to decompress or I'm going to simply go mad and begin a killing spree."

Nicholas chuckled. "I'm not surprised, honestly. Just the things I've heard about tell me that you need some time away." He sighed slightly, a rueful smile on his face. "Albus has always had a bit of trouble understanding that, as well intentioned as his actions and ideas may be, they aren't always what's best for his people. It comes with being so old and so respected. I went through something similar a few centuries back. It's hard to not think you've got all the answers when you've got so much experience. Unfortunately that often just means that your mistakes are that much greater."

Harry nodded in understanding. "So are you going to call Dumbledore and tell him I'm here?"

The old man looked at him, considering it, before shaking his head. "No, I don't think I will. Like I said, I agree with your need to relax. And I like your independence. As long as you are careful I won't say anything." Looking at him critically he continued. "However, you do need some way to disguise yourself, at least when you're in magical areas. You are rather well known after all." He motioned for the teen to follow as he headed to the tables full of trinkets.

Harry followed curiously even as he felt himself relax with relief that his vacation hadn't been cut short just yet. Stepping beside Flamel he looked down at the many items on the tables, seeing now that they had cards with details and even enchantment descriptions with them.

"Now then, where was it…" The Frenchman scanned the many items before reaching down and picking up what appeared to be a pendant made of an odd, ebony colored metal that reflected the light strangely dangling on a fine silver chain. The image on the dark metal was of an open eye, a small, glittering prismatic gem taking place of the iris that seemed to shine faintly with all the colors of the rainbow.

Nicholas handed the pendant to Harry, who took it carefully. "This item is ancient, even by my standards, and has a very interesting little effect. While you're wearing it the vast majority of people will be unable to remember what you look like, or connect you with your true self if they'd seen you before. It doesn't truly obscure your face, more making people think that your features are unimportant, though thankfully they will still 'recognize' you if you need to talk to somebody multiple times. I believe the non-magical community have named the effect a 'perception filter' which I think works well. And thankfully, this particular example allows you to be recognized by people you want with just you willing it."

Harry examined the pendant, now very interested. "That's amazing, and definitely sounds useful. How much?"

"Take it." Flamel said with a shrug. "Honestly, I was a bit on the fence about selling it, considering the potential for abuse it has. I'd feel much better if someone like you had it."

Harry shook his head. "I can't take it without giving you anything for it."

"I insist." Flamel said firmly. When Harry looked down and muttered something he raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Why would you do this for one of the reasons you're going to die?" He said a bit more audibly, though still taking care not to be heard by the other patrons.

Nicholas observed Harry briefly, eyes narrowed. "Is this why you initially wished to speak to me?" He said gently.

"I just… Dumbledore told me four years ago that you'd decided to destroy the stone and allow yourself to die. And… I mean, intellectually I guess I understand, but… I just…" Harry clenched his teeth. "I don't understand how you can accept it so easily, and why you don't hate me for being part of the reason you had to make the decision in the first place…"

Nicholas stared at Harry before letting out a long, slow breath. "Harry, I don't blame you because you never set out to kill me. You did what you thought was right, to keep my stone out of Voldemort's clutches. That's worth far more than my life." He moved to sit down at one of the antique chairs that faced slightly away from the room, motioning for Harry to join him on another, the teen doing so. "I'm old, Harry. Very, very old. Far older than any man should be. During that time I have seen amazing things. I have lived through the Renaissance, and met da Vinci, Michalangelo and Mozart. I have seen the entire world become mapped, with empires rising to the greatest heights, only to be brought low by those seeking to make their own destiny. I have seen the non-magical world go from a fearful, superstitious people to a collective billions strong that has landed on the moon and reached even further into the stars, something most magicals haven't even thought to do. I've seen the world become interconnected to a level never thought possible only a century ago, leading to new ideas and discoveries that leave me in awe." He briefly pulled an iPhone out of his with a cheeky smile before putting it away. Then the smile dropped.

"I have also seen the evils of humanity to go with the beauty. I have seen more wars and atrocities occur that you would believe, including two World Wars within fifty years. I have seen racism and xenophobia infect the entire world, and governments abuse their own people in methods unheard of. Dark Lords as evil as Voldemort continue to appear and commit atrocities, the apathy of the common people emboldening them. I've seen human greed ravage the world, ruining its natural beauty and endangering the future."

He leaned forward as he looked at Harry, elbows on his knees. "I have seen all of that, Harry, far more than I should have, and I feel both privileged and tired. And though a part of me wishes I could see what comes next for the world, and another fears what might come next for me, I know, and have known for some time, that I've been here long enough. And Perenelle agrees with me. That's why she's busily arranging things with the many charities we support."

Harry sat, taking everything the ancient alchemist had said in, before breathing out softly. "I don't think I could accept death as easily…"

Nicholas chuckled softly. "Ah, Harry, you're young. You've still got so much to see and do. Trust me when I say, that once you're an old man, surrounded by great grandchildren, you will see differently." He sat back in his seat. "There is always a fear of the unknown, Harry. That's natural. Just don't let it control you. It did me, once. That's why I'm still here." He looked at Harry sharply. "Besides, from the stories Albus has told me, you have already faced death before."

"But that's because I had to. Because there was something more important on the line, most of the time. Like saving your stone." Harry argued.

"And that shows that you're already more accepting of death than most. Voldemort himself is so utterly terrified of death that the mere idea of risking himself like you would likely send him screaming to the hills." He patted the teen's knee with a reassuring smile. "Everything ends, Harry. And while I'm not saying you should rush towards your own end, don't shy away from it when it comes."

Harry nodded slowly. "I'll… think on all of this…"

Flamel nodded with a smile, glancing up at the rest of the room briefly as he allowed Harry a moment. His smile dropped immediately and he quickly turned to Harry. "Harry, put the pendant on _now_." He hissed.

Harry was startled by the change in tone, but upon seeing how serious Nicholas was he quickly did as told, slipping the silver chain over his head. He didn't feel anything different, but seeing Nicholas nod with satisfaction he decided it was working. When the other man stood to face someone approaching Harry turned to see who it was.

Walking towards them was a man with pale blonde hair tied in a neat braid. He had hard, blunt features made worse by the unpleasant smile on his face, cold eyes snapping to Nicholas. He was attired in rich, flowing ropes that denoted wealth and some position of power.

"Nicholas Flamel…" The man said upon reaching them, his voice hard, as though trying to bludgeon those around into listening.

"Corban Yaxley…" Nicholas said coldly, making Harry tense.

He recognized the name. Moody had made sure that all of the teens knew it, among many others.

Corban Yaxley, one of Voldemort's Inner Circle.

"Bloody hell." Harry muttered under his breath, wondering how his luck could get worse.

* * *

_**The second winner of my patron poll is here!**_

_**I've worked in the service industry, a short time at a Burger King when I was a teen, and then about 8 years in hotel. I **_**always** _**tip well, because I know just what kind of BS those people put up with. And so Harry will always be nice and generous.**_

_**One day during my job at the hotel I went to deliver a minifridge to a room on the ground floor and came across the guests on their way to the attached casino, who asked if it was the one they asked for. When I said yes one of the women moved to tip me, pulling a twenty out of her pocket. Her friend told her to let her take care of it, and proceeded to pull out another twenty. Then a ten. Then a five. Then some coins. In the end I ended up getting 75 cents. Even the other woman stared at her like 'WTF?'.**_

_**Always, ALWAYS tip your service people if they do a good job.**_

_**I did my best to research things in this chapter thoroughly, including going to the Louvre's official website. I'm doing my best to do this right.**_

_**Not much else to say in this chapter. I had Harry meeting Flamel in Paris in mind since the beginning. We never get a death date for Flamel, so I can easily see it taking several years to put his estate in order. And now Harry has a way to hide his identity. You thought I forgot that, didn't you?**_

_**As always, please remember that you can have a say in what I write if you donate to my Pat A Ron page. Each dollar donated gives you a vote in the monthly poll. That's at Pat A Ron dotcom /athanmortis.**_

_**Till next time, thanks for reading, and please review.**_


	4. Black Birth

Harry watched warily as Yaxley reached Flamel, still smiling unpleasantly. Flamel, for his part, looked upon the man stonily, his body tense.

"It is good to see you again." Yaxley said in what he must have thought was a friendly way.

"Indeed…" Nicholas almost drawled before turning his head to look at Harry. "Please excuse me for cutting our conversation short, Monsieur Black. It seems I have something I need to attend to. Please, feel free to look through the available books."

Harry got up, hiding his nervousness with a bit of effort, though he felt more secure when Yaxley looked at him without any recognition. "I understand, Monsieur Flamel. If you'll excuse me." He nodded to the two men before beginning to make his way to the bookshelves, only to be stopped by the Death Eater addressing him.

"Black, you say?" He asked with interest. "Any relation to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black from Britain?"

Harry turned, shaking his head. "Doubtful. My parents are mundane, and it is a relatively common name in the non-magical world."

Yaxley barely repressed a sneer. "A mud-I mean, muggleborn then. I see…" With that he waved the boy away as he turned back to Flamel, no longer assigning him any importance.

Harry let out a relieved breath and moved to the bookshelf closest to the two men, picking up one of the books, Tobin's Spirit Guide, and beginning to page through it as he did his best to listen in on their conversation without being noticed.

"I already said no, Yaxley." Flamel began coldly before the other man could say anything.

"Be reasonable, old man." Yaxley replied, voice menacingly amused. "Denying the Dark Lord what he wants is not wise. Besides which, we are willing to compensate you handsomely."

"You don't seem to grasp the basic point that you can't frighten me, boy. I am already going to die. Whether it's in five months or five minutes won't make much difference. And by the same reasoning, I don't need, nor want, your blood money." Flamel informed the younger man firmly.

"We can still make things very unpleasant for you before your end comes…" Yaxley growled. "Besides which, I doubt you can fight us off should we decide to take what we want by force. You are well outside Dumbledore's protection."

"You assume I need it." Flamel's voice sounded like it should be misting up his breath, it was so cold.

What attention Harry was paying the book in his hands (who knew there were so many different types of spirits and ghosts beyond the ones he saw at Hogwarts?) was drawn away when he noticed three men enter the building, moving overly casually even as they spread out to different points in the room. Sucking a breath through his teeth he began paying attention to their movements even as he noted where the oblivious civilians were standing, the room more crowded now than when he'd come in. If spells started flying this could get messy.

His eyes paused on a well-dressed woman at the furniture, a boy and a girl of about seven or eight sitting on a nearby loveseat looking bored. That could be bad. He'd have to trust that Flamel could take care of himself and focus on protecting the civilians till the aurors, or whatever the French equivalent were called, arrived.

Gently setting the book down while making a note to buy it later Harry slowly walked along the shelves while looking at the books to surreptitiously make his way closer to the other people in the room. He drew his wand and absently twirled it in his fingers, acting as though it was simply a meaningless habit of his. One of the Death Eaters made note of it and obviously decided to take him out first, which was fine with Harry. If they were focusing on him that meant they weren't paying attention to the civilians.

The conversation between Yaxley and Flamel was nearing its obvious conclusion, the old man standing firm in the face of the dark wizard's threats. Spotting Yaxley's compatriots begin slowly drawing their wands Harry got ready, mentally complaining to any deity that might be listening about always ending up in these situations and wishing that he'd studied the _Battle Mage's Compendium_ so he'd be better prepared.

"Very well, old man. You've left us no choice." Yaxley said before drawing his wand with surprising speed, aiming it at Flamel, who'd already dodged away from the spell the Death Eater sent at him as he drew his own wand.

The civilians were only just turning at towards the sudden show of violence when the other three assailants began to strike after a quick spell that turned their outfits into their Death Eater garb. One sent an unsuspecting patron flying into the wall, where he collided with a crunch and a cry before falling onto some of the art, one of his arms bent wrongly. Another cast a Cruciatus on a woman, making her drop to the floor, screaming.

The one that had been eyeing Harry sent a curse at him at the same time the others had begun their attack, but Harry was prepared, a shout of 'protego' conjuring a shield that stopped the spell in its tracks. The Death Eater blinked dumbly at the fact that the teen wasn't quite the easy pickings he'd thought, which gave Harry enough time to launch a counterattack, banishing several heavy pieces of furniture at his opponent, who barely managed to scramble out of the way, unprepared.

Thankfully the Death Eater's mad scramble let the furniture keep travelling till it hit the Cruciatus caster in the backside, sending him tumbling and releasing the woman from the spell. Sobbing she promptly curled into a ball, hoping she wouldn't be noticed anymore while she caught her breath and tried to stop her body from shaking.

Harry's original attacker sent a dangerous looking orange spell at him which the teen sidestepped, retaliating with a stunner, which was blocked. Then the man who'd been hit by the furniture joined the fight, and though he couldn't see his face Harry imagined he was pissed, an assumption that was backed up by the way he launched spells at him.

Harry dodged and blocked frantically, moving furniture into the path of what spells he couldn't avoid, the antiques shattering into pieces. When he could he sent a spell at them to interrupt their flow, but it quickly became obvious that he'd need to change his strategy if he wanted to keep from being overwhelmed.

Deciding to up the ante Harry sent a surprise blasting spell at the legs of one of his opponents, who wasn't prepared for attack and fell with a cry when his leg shattered to pieces, clutching at his wound and whimpering like a child.

The other Death Eater snarled and launched a steel grey spell at him, Harry throwing himself behind a large cabinet to keep it from hitting him. The spell hit a big, heavy dresser and exploded, sending shrapnel flying in all directions. Harry could only imagine what that would have done to him if it had hit.

He was about to launch a counterattack when a scream emanating from the area the exploded dresser was in made him pause and turn to find the source, his heart dropping at what he saw.

The woman and her children had been cowering near the dresser when the attack had hit, and now the young boy was laying on his back, a large piece of wood buried in the right side of his chest. He was struggling for breath even as his mother screamed, his sister sitting on the ground with a dazed look of shock, neither one of them noticing the numerous small wounds covering them, too focused on the boy's.

Without a thought Harry reacted, quickly focusing on the cabinet. Remembering what he'd learned from McGonagall he transfigured it into a slab of metal before enlarging it so it filled his section of the room, blocking the approach of the Death Eater. Then he rushed over to the family, sliding into a kneeling position beside the boy.

The mother looked at him, eyes wide and panicked, but thankfully no longer screaming. "My son!" She cried. "Help my son!"

Ignoring her as best he could so he could focus on the boy he studied the wound, trying not to freak out over the amount of blood and the way the kid was struggling to breathe. He looked up briefly when a clanging sound came from the wall he'd made, a dent appearing in the metal, but he put it out of his mind and turned his attention back to the wounded child.

"Please calm down, Madam." He told her the hysterical woman. "I'm going to do what I can to help him, but I need you to focus on keeping calm so I can work." When she took a deep breath and nodded tearfully he nodded back before looking back at the large shard of wood. "Alright kid, stay still. Everything's going to be alright…" Harry said to the barely conscious boy slowly before aiming his wand at the wood, murmuring one of the spells he'd learned from the _Grimoire for White Mages _the previous day. Slowly the wood, along with all the splinters that were also in the wound, began to pull out, managing to not cause more damage upon their exit thanks to the properties of the spell, till eventually they'd exited the boy's chest completely and were laying on the floor beside him.

Unfortunately this brought another problem in that Harry's patient now had a large hole in his chest all the way to the lung. The unpleasant sound that accompanied the kid's struggles to breath showed that he didn't have much time, so Harry quickly proceeded to the next spell.

The _Grimoire _had sections of spells for specific purposes such as these, but Harry hadn't gotten around to learning them yet. Thankfully the author had foreseen such an eventuality, so the first chapters included general purpose healing spells that could do the job at the cost of costing exponentially more power the more serious the wound. Bringing those chapters to mind Harry quickly aimed his wand at the hole in the boy's chest, focusing as much power as he could into his next spell. "Curaga." He intoned forcefully.

As the hopeful mother and daughter watched, tears in their eyes as they clutched the boy's hands, the wound began to close, starting with the lung tissue sealing itself without even a scar followed by the layers of muscle and skin that protected it. The boy gasped before coughing and then breathing easily as the skin of his chest knitted itself together without leaving a mark. His eyes fluttered and he looked at his tearful mother. "Maman?"

The woman burst into tears and gathered her son into her arms, holding him close as her daughter moved to hug her brother, crying as well. Then she looked up at Harry, who was sitting on the ground trying to catch his breath after the magical exertion he'd just gone through. "Thank you." She said gratefully. "Thank you so much, monsieur. How can I ever repay you?"

Harry shook his head. "I'm just happy to help." He said as he recovered. "Besides, it was partly my fault." There was a screech of tearing metal which prompted Harry to look up with a glare. Getting up he quickly transfigured some more furniture into another metal wall to cover the family. "Stay here while I deal with our unwelcome guests."

As the woman pulled her children behind the barrier Harry aimed his wand at the opening The Death Eater had made in his attempts to continue the fight. As soon as he showed his masked face Harry launched a blistering barrage of spells, from the inconsequential like a tickling jinx to the serious such as blasting spells. The Death Eater wasn't prepared for the sudden onslaught and backpedaled, frantically shielding himself from the attacks as Harry made his way towards the dark wizard, doing his best to bring the man down despite his increasing exhaustion.

The Death Eater was too used to dealing with people who wouldn't fight back or were otherwise not hardened to combat, neither of which applied to Harry. Eventually the younger man got a lucky hit in, shattering his opponent's wand, after which he was quickly knocked out with a quick stunner to the face.

Looking around Harry took in the rest of the display room. Flamel was still fighting Yaxley, who was looking frustrated and angry. The wizard Harry had previously taken out of the fight was still moaning and whimpering like a child over his broken leg, obviously not used to pain. Harry quickly hit him with a stunner to shut him up.

The last of the thugs was ransacking Flamel's items, currently shoving enchanted trinkets into a sack, most likely in the hopes something useful to his master would be among them. Harry quickly flicked his wand, pulling the man's legs out from under him and making him crash forward onto the table with a yelp before quickly hitting him with a stunner before he could recover.

After that the only Death Eater left was Yaxley, who was still fighting Flamel. Harry paused briefly to take in the spells being flung, the multi-centenarian using some truly strange and esoteric ones that gave him an edge as his opponent didn't know how to counter them. Then, once he'd satisfied his curiosity enough, Harry took aim at Yaxley, waiting for the right moment to attack. That moment arrived quickly enough when the Death Eater stopped to block what appeared to be bar of energy made up of dozens of glowing runes, his knees buckling from the strain. Harry then proceeded to use a quick incarcerus to bind the man, who was caught by surprise, lowering his guard enough for Flamel to take him out of the fight, making him fall to the ground, bound, gagged and, most importantly, wandless.

Looking around the old man nodded in satisfaction. "Well done, young man. I wasn't expecting you to do so well against three of them."

"It would have been a lot harder if they were more competent and had worked together." Harry said as he quickly began checking the other people for injuries. There was nothing he could do for the woman suffering from Cruciatus aftereffects, but she seemed to be on the mend. Moving to the man with a broken arm he created a splint, deciding to leave it for a more competent healer since it wasn't life threatening. Flamel quickly assisted in triaging the victims like Harry was, though he displayed more experience and ability than the younger man did, which wasn't too surprising.

The civilians who hadn't fled slowly gathered around the two wizards to be looked at, all of them appearing shell shocked by what had happened. The woman Harry'd helped made her way over with her children, glaring darkly at the fallen forms of the Death Eaters even as she clutched the kids tightly.

"Now what?" Harry asked Flamel once they'd made sure nobody else was seriously hurt.

His question was answered when five individuals in red robes burst through the doorway, wands drawn. Harry began raising his own wand when Flamel pushed his hand down. "Relax, Monsieur Black. It's the Aurors."

"About time." The man with the broken arm muttered as two of the newcomers approached, two of the others beginning to secure the Death Eaters while the last showed themselves to be a medic by beginning to check on everybody.

"Monsieur Flamel." The woman that appeared to be the leader said as she reached the group of people, a much younger man following along behind her and looking around warily. Most likely a cadet, Harry estimated. "I am Auror Le Pen. We received reports that your event was under attack."

"Indeed." Flamel said, finally putting his wand away now that there didn't appear to be any more need for it. "Some Death Eaters wanted access to my collection, no doubt for nefarious purposes. They likely would have done much more damage if it wasn't for Monsieur Black helping me fight them off and defend the others here?"

"Monsieur Black?" The senior auror asked while glancing at the gathered people to look for said person as her cadet wrote everything down with a dictation quill.

Flamel set a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Yes, a family friend. Hermes Black. He is quite skilled."

Harry gave Flamel a brief look for the name before addressing the auror. "Hello, Auror Le Pen. I'm just glad I was here to lend assistance."

Le Pen raised an eyebrow. "Forgive me Monsieur Black, but you seem a bit young to have fought several Death Eaters off, even when assisting Monsieur Flamel."

"Actually, he did most of the work." Flamel said with a smile.

"Yes, he was amazing." The mother said as she held her children. "If it wasn't for him my Jacques would be dead." She turned to Harry. "Again, I owe you everything, Monsieur Black. Please, tell me how I can repay you."

"I don't need anything, madame." He assured her again, shaking his head. "I could not just leave things be, after all."

Glancing around to see that her aurors had gathered the assailants, Le Pen turned to the gathered people. "Very well then, ladies and gentlemen, I will have my aurors get your statements so you may leave once our medic has looked you over." Nodding to all of them she moved off to inspect the captured Death Eaters, leaving the gathered witnesses to collect their thoughts.

With his hand still on Harry's shoulder Flamel guided the young man away from the group so they could talk privately. "How are you, Monsieur Black?"

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm wondering if I'm cursed to always end up in situations like these."

Flamel smiled wryly. "Well, I am not complaining. Things could have gone badly had you not been here to intervene."

"I suppose…" The Harry looked at the old man. "Why Hermes Black?"

"Well, we could hardly use your true name. I'd already called you Monsieur Black, and Hermes just seemed appropriate considering you plan on travelling during your holiday." At Harry's confused look he chuckled. "Hermes is the Greek God of Travel, Transitions and Boundaries, among other things."

Harry shook his head with a chuckle at the explanation. "I guess it works. I'll go ahead and use it when I need to. Hopefully this'll be the last bit of trouble I have for a while."

"Indeed." Flamel agreed. "In any case, I believe you wanted some of my books, correct? Let's go choose some for you while we wait for the aurors to allow us to leave." The old man said as he proceeded to head to the bookshelves.

Shrugging to himself Harry followed along, looking forward to going through the titles now that he wasn't worried about an impending battle. Picking up Tobin's Spirit Guide and setting it aside to purchase later he began to browse as he allowed himself to relax now that the danger was over, pleased that things had gone relatively well and hoping that the rest of his holiday would be relaxing.

Then he scowled as he could practically hear his friends burst out into incredulous laughter in his mind.

Traitors…

* * *

**_I'm back!_**

**_Sorry for the delay. I meant to have this out last week, but after writing a little over 1000 words while at work, I then found out that none of it saved to Google Drive due to new firewall BS at work, so I lost all that work. That killed my motivation for a bit at that point._**

**_Still, this chapter is done and dusted, and I couldn't be happier. I think it showed well Harry's new capabilities. _**

**_I hope everyone enjoyed the action-y chapter as we won't have much of that again for a bit, since this is mainly about Harry travelling and learning new things. Speaking of, some of the books he's going to get from Flamel are going to have some very interesting implications. Mwahahaha._**

**_I keep forgetting to give this fic a theme song, by the way. I've decided on AmaLee's cover of Ready Steady Go from the original Fullmetal Alchemist anime. I think it fits pretty well. Let me know what you think._**

**_As always, please keep in mind that you can have a say in what I write when you donate to my Pat A Ron. Each dollar donated is one vote in the monthly poll I put up for what to update. This month I'm doing something a bit special as there will be a vote for two things: a current story to update, and an older story that hasn't been updated in a while to give a new chapter. If you want to see one of my older stories get some new life, please vote. That's at Pat A Ron dotcom /athanmortis._**

**_Thank you for reading, have a nice day, and please review!_**


	5. Continuing Explorations

Harry walked into his hotel room tiredly, a large shopping bag full of the books Flamel had let him take in hand. Once the door was closed behind him he set the books down on a coffee table before taking a seat and closing his eyes.

He was exhausted in more ways than one after the day's events. Beyond the exertion from the fight in the auction house itself, the weariness of having had to fight for his life again, so soon after the debacle in the Ministry, weighed down on him.

He just wanted a vacation, for heaven's sake, yet it seemed whoever was in charge of his life preferred to plonk him down into continuous issues for a laugh rather than let him relax.

Still, he couldn't say he wasn't glad he'd interfered. That boy might have died if Harry hadn't been around to heal him. The knowledge that he'd saved somebody's life the way he had helped soothe the ache that was his guilt over his role in Sirius' death. Knowing that he now had skills that would allow him to do more than just cause injuries was reassuring. He wondered if Madam Pomfrey ever felt similarly.

He also now fully intended to drag his friends on a shopping spree in Cassandra's shop. Her ability had proved itself, and he fully intended to read through both of the spellbooks she'd sold him thoroughly.

After a few minutes he groaned and got up, heading for the minibar that came with the room for a drink. Setting aside the alcohol in the fridge despite the urge he had to try it out considering the day he'd had, he grabbed a Coke and took a long pull before moving back to organize the books he'd bought off Flamel.

One he immediately set aside was for Hermione, "Historie of Latin Magicks", a large tome that seemed exactly like the sort of thing the bushy haired witch would get excited about. The fact that it was obviously old and rare was a plus.

The three other books in the bag were his. Tobin's Spirit Guide had been purchased partly because Harry found it interesting, partly because he figured knowing about the many types of spirits and ghosts that existed in the world might be useful considering the travelling he was doing.

Flamel had recommended another book for him after seeing the steel walls he'd made during the fight, "Battlefield Transfiguration and Conjuration". He said it didn't contain specific spells so much as ways to use transfigurations in combat, which caught Harry's interest. He made a note to read a bit of it between his other spellbooks.

The last book was a bit surprising to Harry that Flamel had recommended it. "Old World Etiquette" wasn't the first thing Harry considered might be useful in the immediate future, but Flamel had insisted. According to him the more he traveled the more likely he'd need the information in the book, especially as it wasn't Eurocentric like most books of the type tended to be, so it would still come in handy if he travelled beyond Europe. Harry figured it couldn't hurt, though he didn't imagine he'd be reading it often.

Taking another pull of Coke after putting the books in his trunk he looked at the clock to find it was a little after noon. He considered getting something to eat, hungry after the morning's excitement, before he remembered his promise to Hermione. Sighing to himself he sat back down and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

* * *

The phone had barely rung when Hermione snatched the headset off of its base, bringing it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Somehow I'm not surprised you were waiting by the phone for me to call, Hermione." Harry's voice came, sounding amused.

Hermione felt herself involuntarily relax. She hadn't realized how worried and tense she was that something had happened to him till that moment. "Well I don't have a mobile to carry with me. I never saw the point, seeing as I live at Hogwarts most of the time."

"I'm quite liking owning one." Harry said brightly. "Good cameras, and plenty of games to play while commuting." She heard him take a sip of a drink and groan lightly as he sat back. "So, I'm guessing the Order went nuts when you let them know I'd left?"

"Dumbledore has dispatched people to look for you in any country you could be in." She admitted. "And they want me to tell them what I hear from you after each call."

Harry snorted. "Figures. Still can't seem to respect my choices. Not that I'm surprised."

"He's just worried about you, Harry." Hermione said softly. "We all are. Snape revealed that Death Eaters have been dispatched to other countries around the world to gather support and allies, so the odds of you running into one are a lot higher than you thought."

Harry was silent for a moment, though she could hear him take another sip of his drink. "That figures. Even without meaning to Voldemort manages to interfere with my vacation…" Despite not being able to see him Hermione knew he had a brooding look on his face. He was good at those. Quite a few of their female classmates found him attractive when he looked like that. She couldn't see it, though that might just be the fact that she knew what he was usually brooding about that kept her from thinking of the look as attractive. "Well, it shouldn't be an issue if I stick mostly to the non-magical areas like I have been."

"What have you been doing, then?" Hermione asked in curiosity.

"I spent quite a bit of yesterday at a museum." Harry said lightly, sounding more relaxed now. "Big place. Lots of walking. I took pictures, though. I'll show them to you when I get back."

"A museum?" Hermione said, surprised. "That's not something I imagined drawing your attention. Which one?" She asked, partially in real curiosity, partially wanting to find out where he was. "I've always wanted to go to The Met, for instance, or the Smithsonian."

"I went to an art museum. Don't remember the name. Had some interesting pieces, including some relics from old civilizations. It was surprisingly interesting." He said with enthusiasm in his voice. "And yes, it's a bit outside of my usual wheelhouse, but I've decided to challenge myself during this trip to try new things."

Hermione pouted at being foiled in her attempts to wheedle out his location, but then smiled softly. "I'm glad you're trying to broaden your horizons, Harry. I think that's very admirable. Did you do anything else interesting?"

"Did some shopping." Harry admitted. "Bought you a book. I intend to send it by owl tomorrow or so. Cheaper than sending it by normal post, I think."

Despite herself Hermione perked up with interest. "Really? What's it about."

"It's an old book on latin magic I found in a used book sale. Looks valuable, and what little I read of it made my head spin, so obviously I immediately thought of you." He said, his tone teasing.

Hermione blushed, but couldn't help but feel excited. "I'm looking forward to getting it." Then she frowned. "I thought you said you were sticking to the muggle areas, though…"

"I said mostly." Harry reminded her. "I spent this morning in the equivalent of Diagon Alley this city has. I plan on going out and enjoying the mundane sights for the rest of today and most of tomorrow, though."

"Any particular attraction you want to visit?" She asked, once more trying to wheedle a clue out of him.

"There is one I plan on going to immediately after lunch. I can see it from my hotel window right now, actually." He sounded amused now, and she could tell he was having fun winding her up with vague hints and clues, which made her huff.

"Well, I hope you have fun before the Order brings you back home." She told him snippily.

"You're assuming they'll be able to find me." Harry said, amused by her irritation. "I have a few tricks up my sleeves."

She admitted to herself that he likely did. Harry could be very resourceful, when he needed to be. Still, she thought he was overestimating himself a tad. "We'll see, Harry."

She heard him chuckle lightly. "Well, I'm getting hungry, so I'm going to hang up now."

"Wait!" She called, and she heard him pause, waiting. Scrambling for anything else she could get out of him she spoke. "How much longer will you be staying where you are?"

Harry hummed, considering it. "Not sure, actually. Probably a day, maybe two. I still haven't decided on my next destination."

"Alright…" Hermione said, making a note of that. "I expect another call in two days, understood?"

"Yes mum." He agreed, amused again. "Bye."

"Bye." Then she sighed as he hung up. She looked up when her mother set a sandwich in front of her.

"Grab something to eat before you go write your letter, dear." Ophelia said with a smile.

Hermione smiled back. "Thank you, mum." Grabbing her meal she took a bite, her mind still on Harry, and what she was going to tell the Order.

* * *

Harry sighed with pleasure as he looked out the view of the restaurant he was sitting in.

He'd decided to go for a bit of luxury, and after a recommendation by the hotel concierge and a quick trip online he now sat in the Jules Verne, a restaurant that rested on the second floor of the Eiffel Tower. He counted himself very lucky that someone had apparently canceled their reservation and left a spot open for him.

He smiled at the waitress who brought him the dessert he'd ordered, eyeing the Clafouti appreciatively. Picking up his spoon he scooped up one of the wild cherries in the custard and ate it with relish.

As he sipped the coffee that had come with the dessert he brought his mind to his conversation with Hermione. He knew he was irritating her with his vague hints and misdirections, but he honestly didn't see why she would expect anything else from him considering the circumstances. Hopefully the book he got her would soothe her irritation.

The news that Voldemort had sent his Death Eaters out across the globe was both worrisome and incredibly annoying. It was like the bastard knew that Harry was planning on taking a vacation and was determined to ruin it as much as possible out of sheer pettiness. Now Harry would have to be more careful as he travelled. Thankfully Flamel's gift would keep them from recognizing him unless he stupidly allowed them to.

Not that he expected he'd be able to avoid trouble anyway, knowing his luck.

Finishing the last of his meal Harry quickly paid before making his way to the lifts.

Within minutes he stood on the top floor of the Eiffel Tower, taking in the breathtaking view of Paris. He was smiling widely, the heavy thoughts that had been weighing on him blown away for the moment. He absently wished he had a camera before reminding himself of his phone and pulling it out, walking around the perimeter of the tower as he took pictures to get the entirety of the view. Thankfully he'd gotten a phone with a lot of memory, anticipating the fact that he'd be taking plenty of pictures and some video.

Looking down he saw the crowded ground a long way down, farther than he'd ever been while flying at Hogwarts. It made him wish he had his broom so he could dive off the tower.

Stepping back he looked up at the clear sky, glad he'd decided to push past the morning's events to come. It had partly been sheer stubborn defiance in not wanting to let Voldemort ruin his time in Paris, and he felt vindicated in his choice.

"Fuck you, Tom." He murmured with a small grin before resuming his picture taking.

* * *

Nicholas was taking a seat in his sitting room with a glass of wine in hand, relaxing after the day's events. He had hoped that the day's auction would go well, but apparently the fates had other plans.

Still, at least they weren't complete bitches. They'd sent Monsieur Potter to him at precisely the right time. The boy had needed help and reassurance, which the multi-centenarian was more than happy to give. He hadn't expected the young man to pay him back by dealing with the Death Eaters Yaxley had brought along, which had allowed him to hold the, admittedly skilled, man off.

Giving him some books and a trinket he had no use for was definitely a cheap bargain after his help.

He looked up when the fire he sat in front of rose, expecting to see Perenelle walk through the flames to join him. He was only mildly surprised, however, to see his former apprentice's face in the flickering embers.

"Albus…" He murmured, slightly amused. "You heard, then?"

"Indeed." The younger man said as he studied Nicholas intently. "I did not expect them to attack you, Nicholas. If I'd known I'd have seen about sending somebody to support you. You are uninjured?"

Nicholas snorted. "The young punk had some skill, I will admit, but thanks to his assistance being dealt with I was able to hold him off without too much trouble." He smiled lightly. "Have a little faith, Albus."

"You had help?" The headmaster asked with interest. "I hadn't heard that, only that you'd been attacked by Death Eaters."

"Yes, a young man of my acquaintance was in attendance. He's a very skilled healer, as he saved a young boy's life when the lad's lung was pierced by debris. He managed to surprise the other assailants." Nicholas said idly.

"Indeed…" Albus said idly. "That is good. I always thought we could use more healers than simply combat specialists. Does this young man have a name?"

"Hermes." Nicholas said. "Hermes Black. And before you ask, no, not those Blacks. This young man hails from the mundane world."

"I see. Well then, I will make sure to keep an eye out for such a promising young man." Albus said with a smile.

"Was there anything else, Albus?" Nicholas asked. "As much as you know I enjoy our conversations, I am tired after the day's events."

"Of course, I'll leave you be. Just one last thing, however. Young Mr. Potter has decided to take a trip outside of the UK without telling anyone till he was gone. Considering he said he could speak the language of the place he was gong, I doubt you'll see him in France, but I still wanted to alert you just in case. Could you please inform me if you see him in the future?"

Nicholas took a sip of wine to hide his smile. "I promise that, if I come across the young man in the future, I will let you know, Albus."

The bearded face in the fire smiled, relieved. "Thank you, Nicholas, that takes a weight off of my shoulders. I'll leave you be. Have a good evening."

"And you as well, Albus." Nicholas said with a smile as the fire went back to normal before he chuckled to himself.

"And why do I have the feeling you've played a trick on Albus, dear?" His wife's voice came from the direction of the door, indicating she'd arrived.

Nicholas rose to greet her with a small groan as his bones ached, still smiling. "Let me tell you all about it…"

* * *

Night had begun to fall over the City of Lights and Harry was standing at the balcony of his room, enjoying the sights and sounds of Paris as he sipped another Coke. He was considering his next move, whether to move to a different part of France and explore some more, or move to another country entirely. He'd be lying if he said that the idea of going to one of France's famous nude beaches wasn't appealing.

Still, he didn't want to spend too much time in a single country. Not only did that increase the odds of being caught by either Voldemort or Dumbledore, but there was a lot of the world to see and too little time in which to see it all.

Deciding that he'd do some research later he moved back into the room, closing the balcony doors behind him and sitting in front of his computer, wanting to relax a bit more. Looking at his desktop he realized that he hadn't used the laptop for one of the main thing's he'd bought it for. With that realization he quickly started up one of the games Callie had convinced him to buy.

Taking another pull of his Coke as the Final Fantasy XIV login screen came up he slowly made his way through the setup and character creation. He briefly considered making a Gladiator or Archer, but then he considered what had happened earlier in the day. Quickly going to a quick guide for more information on his options and seeing that what he remembered should be an option from what he heard of previous Final Fantasies at primary school was gated behind another class he quickly made himself a Conjurer. Satisfied with his decision he smiled as he went through the opening cinematic, but when he found himself in the world proper he blinked, suddenly a bit overwhelmed at the sheer amount of information on the screen.

He had never gotten around to playing many games, the Dursleys never willingly letting him, and the few times he'd snuck onto Dudley's PC it'd had games like Call of Duty on it, not Final Fantasy, so Harry was a bit lost.

After a few minutes of stumbling along he almost closed the game out of frustration before he took a breath and calmed himself. Then he picked up his phone and dialed a number in his contacts.

"Hello?" Came a lazy sounding female voice he remembered from a couple of days before.

"Hello, Callie? It's Harry." He said slowly, not sure if this was a good idea.

"Harry!" She exclaimed in surprise, sounding much more attentive now. "Oh wow, I wasn't expecting to hear from you. That'll teach me to not check caller ID. What do you need? I can't believe you've already gone through all the movies I recommended."

"No, I just, uh, need some help with one of the games you told me about." Harry said, a little less hesitant now.

"Oh? Which one?" She asked with interest. When he told her she laughed happily. "What a coincidence! I was about to hop onto it. Tell me which server you're on and I'll join you so I can walk you through things."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked. "Wouldn't you rather play with your main character?"

He could practically hear her shrug. "I was just going to do some smithing, make some money. This promises to be much more interesting. Put me on speaker so you can play while we talk. If you want to continue after tonight I recommend you get yourself a gaming headset, though. I should have thought of that when you were buying your stuff, now that I think about it."

"Alright." Harry said, smiling as he gave Callie the information she needed. As the night wore on he found himself having a lot of fun, and already knew he'd be buying himself that headset.

* * *

_**Hi all!**_

_**Holy shit, I managed to get a chapter out on time instead of the very end of the month! What sorcery is this!?**_

_**Hopefully this momentum will continue and I'll be able to write more and update more often.**_

_**In any case, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. Not too much happened, but after the last chapter I figured Harry needed to wind down.**_

_**He'll likely be spending one more day in Paris, and France itself, before moving on. The options I'm considering for his next destination are Barcelona, Spain and Rome, Italy. Barcelona is more likely, cause he can go from there to Italy, and then elsewhere in Europe from there, without having to double back weirdly just to hit Spain rather than continue east.**_

_**I always planned on bringing Callie back as Harry's link to mundane pop culture, guiding him around things like games. I will say, for those I know are going to ask, that I don't see her as a potential love interest, but she will be a friend.**_

_**By the way, I wonder if any of you can guess what job Harry was wanting to obtain in FFXIV but needed Conjurer for first. I figure it should be fairly obvious.**_

_**All of the books Flamel gave Harry have a purpose. If you've read Make A Wish you should be able to figure out part of it. I will say that the Battlefield Transfiguration book is mainly to expand his combat capabilities, though I'd think that's obvious.**_

_**As always I want to remind you that you can have a say in what I write when you donate to my Pat A Ron. Every dollar donated equals a vote in my monthly poll for what to update. Finding Healing was this month's winner, which is why it was updated today. So go ahead and donate at Pat A Ron dotcom /athanmortis.**_

_**I can't think of anything else that needs to be said regarding this fic, so I'll just say that I am in support of all the protesters in the US and the rest of the world. Keep at it guys, but do your best to stay safe while you do. BLM.**_

_**Thank you all for reading, please review, and stay safe out there. Till next time!**_


	6. The Verdant Phoenix

Harry groaned and slowly opened his eyes as he woke up to his phone's alarm, cursing himself for setting it to wake him up on what was supposed to be his vacation.

He'd stayed up later than he'd planned playing Final Fantasy XIV with Callie, so he'd gotten less sleep than he would have liked. Now, after shutting his alarm off, he was seriously tempted to stay in bed and just sleep till noon.

Eventually he managed to force himself to his feet partly due to his bladder's insistence. He knew that if this was going to be his last day in Paris that he needed to take advantage of it as much as possible. He especially wanted to explore Rue Merveilleux before he left, wanting to see more fully how France's magical district compared to Britain's now that he wasn't focused exclusively on getting to Flamel's estate sale, or getting as far away as he could afterwards.

Shortly after getting out of bed he was showered and ready for the day, simply waiting for room service to bring him his breakfast. To entertain himself he started going through _The Battle Mage's Compendium_, wanting to expand his combat capabilities. The healing spells he'd learned already were very useful and he looked forward to learning more, however he couldn't help but wish he'd been able to bring those Death Eaters down faster so that the boy wouldn't have been injured in the first place. He could only imagine how traumatic the previous day had been for that family.

He'd just started reading about a more potent variation of the Blasting Curse meant to deal with enemy fortifications along with the soldiers behind them. Reading about what the spell could do impressed upon Harry that, despite his initial childish excitement at a book full of spells meant to make things go 'Boom', the _Compendium_ was meant for serious situations, and the knowledge within needed to be used responsibly.

Considering what lay ahead in Harry's future it was definitely exactly what he needed, but his enthusiasm was dampened slightly at the details and warnings in the book.

Eventually his breakfast arrived and he tucked into an excellent omelette, savouring it along with the coffee he'd been served, feeling himself perk up more as his meal went on. Once he finished he put his books away so housekeeping wouldn't see them, and put Hermione's gift in a shopping bag so he could take it to be delivered. Then he left to explore Rue Merveilleux.

* * *

Upon reaching Paris' magical district Harry glanced around at the stores in interest as he walked. There were the normal assortment he was familiar with from Diagon Alley, clothing shops, book shops, and other staples, though the wares were different enough to be interesting. He paused for a long time at a Quidditch supply shop, studying the protective gear and broom care items. There wasn't a new broom model that could beat the Firebolt out yet, so there was nothing of interest in that department, but the rest definitely attracted his attention.

He passed by the place that Flamel's sale had been meant to take place, finding that it had been repaired and now had someone else's goods in it, people flitting about in search of a good deal.

Shaking off the memories of the previous day he continued on his way, soon coming upon the post office. Within minutes he'd chosen a next day delivery owl and sent the package along to Hermione. He'd need to make sure he didn't call her till evening the next day to make sure she'd received it first, as he wanted to hear what she thought of it once she had it in her hands.

Harry had found out not all that long ago that he very much enjoyed giving presents to the people he cared about. True, receiving gifts was great, and still a novelty after a decade receiving crap his relatives had begrudgingly given him, but there was something about making his friends happy when he could by giving them something they needed or wanted that made him happy. He wondered absently if it was a result of his upbringing or simply something innate to him, but in the end decided it didn't matter. He'd definitely be buying all his friends plenty of souvenirs as he traveled to give them when he got back.

Once the book had been sent off, after he'd made sure Hermione wouldn't be able to figure out it was sent from Paris (though by the time she received it he should theoretically be well on his way to his next destination), Harry decided to look through a local joke shop, wanting to obtain some samples to give the twins, to see if they got any ideas for their shop. Not that they'd need much, if everything they came up with during their time at Hogwarts was any indication.

The shop was interesting, yet strangely restrained for a joke shop. True, there weren't many kids there that day, but it was mostly quiet, and everything was in its place. He could not conceive of the twins' shop being anything like this. Every time he'd envisioned it he'd imagined pure chaos as kids set products off, or the products going off on their own when customers approached. Not to mention the loud advertisements and instructions. If he hadn't already known the twins, one look at the tarp that hid the soon to come Weasley shop told him all he needed to know.

In the end he ended up getting a very realistic looking spider that could be remotely controlled which he knew very well would frighten Ron at least once, some 'X-Ray Glasses' that were marketed to perverts but actually showed whoever you looked at as some sort of furry beast out of a mundane horror movie, and some soap that would paint the user's skin with various colors and patterns.

He'd just left the shop when he paused, looking down at his purchases, before heading back to the post office. He knew he could trust the twins not to reveal where the items were from, so he didn't feel too worried about sending them immediately rather than wait till he got home, like he would with everything else that could be identified.

After that he headed into a bookstore to find anything else of interest, sadly not coming up with much. It appeared that French and British magical bookstores were rather similar except for the language. Though he was tempted to buy the magical version of the illustrated Kama Sutra which he almost literally stumbled into. He was a hormonal teen, sue him.

After that he paused to eat at a nice little hole in the wall eatery, once again going for something French, in this case bouillabaisse, which brought a chuckle on when he remembered Ron proclaiming to love it when they'd interacted with Fleur for the first time. Once he had a taste he found it quite good. Not exactly something he'd eat all the time, but he definitely didn't mind it.

Once his stomach was satisfied he continued exploring the district for the next few hours. It was as he was getting tired and debating whether to leave or not that he came across something that surprised him.

Near the end of Rue Merveilleux stood a classically built building of good size which had plenty of foot traffic. Above the door rested a sign stating it to be Regine Garson's Museum of Magical Art.

He hadn't expected to find an art museum in Rue Merveilleux. Diagon Alley didn't have anything equivalent. Realizing that he probably should have studied the magical travel guide before deciding to explore he hesitated before walking in, quickly paying the entrance fee before beginning to wander the museum.

Much like the tent he'd stayed in during the Quidditch World Cup, it was obvious that the building'd had expansion charms cast upon the interior, because there was a lot more to see than Harry had thought there would be after seeing the outside.

The museum was structured in various wings displaying different types of art rather than arrange them by theme. The first he visited was the wing where paintings were hung, wondering how what he'd find would compare to what he'd seen at Hogwarts.

There were plenty of portraits hanging from the walls, and as he expected, they all moved and spoke, which detracted from the experience in Harry's view. Especially when they started to loudly argue with the patrons who were discussing a certain piece's value and attributes. As he'd thought to himself during his visit to the Louvre, there was something in the fact of their moving and talking that detracted from the artistic experience.

Oh, they were undoubtedly useful in some ways, such as as guards as in the Fat Lady's case, or when you needed information from someone deceased, like the paintings in the Headmaster's Office, but as actual art, Harry was of the opinion that they definitely lost out to non-magical pieces.

Instead he found himself gravitating to landscapes and 'still-lifes', though the term rather lost its meaning when, say, the vase of flowers that had been painstakingly painted moved in the breeze of the window they sat beside.

Still, he found himself enjoying paintings such as a view of the night sky in which the stars twinkled down upon what Harry assumed was a quaint French town, or the scene of a stormy ocean, the painted waves crashing upon a cliff upon which a lighthouse stood, tall and resolute, its light shining brightly.

The painting which attracted most of his attention, however, was a timelapse of a single, solitary tree standing proudly upon a small hill. As Harry watched it bloomed with flowers covering its branches among the green leaves, the wind ruffling the entire thing as it aged, flowers disappearing and leaves turning autumnal shades before falling, leaving it looking decrepit and sad. Soon it was covered in snow, which gave it a new, cold beauty, but that too passed as the snow melted, giving way for new greenery as the cycle started all over again.

"This piece is titled 'The Verdant Phoenix'." A female voice said behind him, and he turned to find an older woman of about fifty approaching. She was dressed smartly in a white blouse and grey skirt, with minimal jewelry and makeup.

"Oh?" Harry said, turning to continue observing the painting as the leaves once more fell off the branches. "I can see that. A sort of metaphor for renewal, which a phoenix is a more literal example of."

The woman smiled as she stopped beside him, pleased. "Indeed. I feel that it is, sadly, one of our most overlooked pieces. It can have so many different interpretations depending on who looks at it, but many people don't get the point like you just did. Still, it is probably my favorite painting in the museum."

"I'm assuming you work here, then?" Harry asked politely.

"Indeed. I'm the curator, Geneviève Bisset." She said with a smile.

"A pleasure to meet you. I'm H-Hermes. Hermes Black." Harry said with a nod.

"Ah, in that case, it is a pleasure to meet you, Monsieur Black. I heard of your exploits yesterday. One of those that were in attendance works for me acquiring art and he was there looking for new pieces amongst the Flamels' effects when the Death Eaters attacked. He had some glowing words for you." Geneviève said with a smile.

"I hope he is doing alright, in that case." Harry said as he blushed lightly.

"A bit rattled, but he'll live. I've given him a week off work to settle down." The woman said. "I'm glad I got to meet you. I admit that I'm surprised to see you here, however."

"Well, I'm actually travelling on vacation and decided to explore Rue Merveilleux before I leave Paris. I didn't expect to find a museum here."

"I see." She said with an understanding nod. "And what do you think of our humble home?"

"What I've seen of it is nice." He said before shrugging somewhat sheepishly. "Then again, the only other museum I've ever been is the Louvre, so I don't have much of a frame of reference…"

"Ah, I understand. It's hard for this small place to compare to the Louvre, if I'm being quite honest." At his surprised look she chuckled. "I am an art lover, Monsieur Black. Whether that art is magical or mundane doesn't matter to me. Of course I've been to the Louvre, as well as pretty much every other museum in Paris, not to mention many other cities around the world."

"It's nice to see you don't dismiss mundane art like many magicals would." Harry said with a smile. "I honestly prefer most of it to magical pieces. The portraits aren't as loud, for example."

Geneviève chuckled ruefully. "They can be a bit irritating, can't they?" She agreed just as another argument between two art critics and the portrait of a rather loud woman began nearby. "Have you seen our sculpture wing yet, though?"

"Not yet." Harry said, shaking his head.

"I highly recommend you do so, then. If you want to truly see the opportunities that magic affords art, it would be in the sculptures." Geneviève said with a smile.

Harry considered it. "I think I'll head there now then, thank you."

"Not at all." Geneviève said as she turned to leave. "Enjoy your time here, and feel free to ask for me if you have any questions."

Harry thanked her and said goodbye as she left. Then, with one last glance at 'The Verdant Phoenix' he began to head for his next destination in his tour of the museum.

A short while later Harry had to admit that magical sculptures had an edge on mundane ones. They could be set in poses or arrangements that just weren't possible without it, or for that matter made of things one normally wouldn't consider.

There was a tree made up of actual leaves and strands of grass, frozen in place to make it seem like an oak. An actual fire that changed shapes into various forms such as some dice, a shield and a boat, among others, drew Harry's attention for a bit as he just watched the flames dance. There was also a pool of water that formed insane shapes that had obviously been inspired by M.C. Escher.

All in all, Harry spent much longer among the sculptures than he had the paintings, studying each one intently and taking pictures of some of them with his phone, much to the confusion of some of the patrons.

By the time he finally had enough of the museum it was getting late, the sun beginning to set, and he was getting tired and hungry. Walking out of the building he stretched lightly, feeling surprisingly relaxed. With a smile he headed back to the non-magical side of Paris for a meal before heading back to his hotel to sleep. He had to be up early the next morning to catch his train.

* * *

Early the next morning Harry made sure everything was packed, including the new gaming headset he'd purchased the previous night from a shop near the hotel. Yawning and checking his phone to make sure his train ticket was all set he did one last check of the room and left a tip for housekeeping before heading down to the lobby and paying his bill. Once that was all complete he had breakfast at a small cafe not too far from the hotel, bought a coffee to go, and grabbed a cab to Gare de Lyon in order to catch his train.

Within the hour he was waiting for the train to arrive, sipping his coffee and browsing the internet on his phone. He looked up with his fellow travellers when he heard the announcement. "The 9:00 AM to Rome, Italy is now boarding."

When the train pulled out of the station Harry looked out the window as Paris went past, telling himself that once Voldemort was dealt with and he no longer had to live in fear, that he would return with his friends in tow and explore it more fully.

For now, though, there was so much more of the world to see, and he couldn't wait.

* * *

_**OMG it's finally finished!**_

_**I am so, so sorry for how long this took. I've had a severe case of writer's block when it came to this chapter, so much so that this is actually the third version of it, and I'm still not really satisfied with it.**_

_**I deleted the first one when it was halfway done, and the second was about 2500 words in before I decided to start from almost scratch. Not to mention that his next destination was constantly in flux.**_

_**Originally it was going to be Barcelona, but then I realized that I didn't actually know anything about it, and couldn't come up with anything in Spain that might draw Death Eaters there. All I know about the city is that it's a popular tourist destination for Europeans on holiday. That's… pretty much it. I get it's supposed to be gorgeous, but that's all.**_

_**In any case, in the end I decided to send him off to Rome. Much more for him to see there, and I have some ideas for things for him to get involved with there. I'll still need to come up with something more concrete before I begin the next chapter though.**_

_**I can't think of anything more story related to say, so I'll go into the two Pat A Ron related things I wanted to say.**_

_**The first is just a reminder that you can have a say in what I write when you donate to my Pat A Ron. Every dollar donated equals a vote in my monthly poll, and now I've made it so that the votes for the things that don't win in a given month roll over into the next. This should give those who donate lower amounts more of a say in what's written, since they can accumulate votes over time. So if you want to donate and see your favorite stories of mine updated more often, go to Pat A Ron dotcom /athanmortis.**_

_**The second, and to me, more important thing, is that my best friend has begun a Pat A Ron for their original fiction. Donate any amount you want and get access to some objectively excellent writing (far better than mine, if I'm being completely honest). They've posted their first chapter, which is a supernatural steampunk detective thriller that I very much enjoy called 'The Curious Investigations of Mister Jonathan Scott'. If you like, say, The Dresden Files, but want it more steampunk, this is for you. You can find their stuff by searching for Grimm Tales in Pat A Ron. **_

_**I would appreciate it a lot if you could help them out, as unlike me they've had employment trouble due to some disabilities, which this pandemic hasn't helped.**_

_**Please keep in mind though that we've been made aware of a bug with the site that makes it seem like you can't donate less than $5. If you don't want to donate that much, to either of us, just put a zero before the number you want to donate, such as 03. That should get you going.**_

_**Alright, that's it from me. Next thing I'll be posting is the next chapter of Brightest in Shadow. Then, depending on when that gets done, it'll be either my next voted for chapter, or the first chapter in a new story I've had in mind for years. We'll see.**_

_**In any case, thank you all for reading, please review, and stay safe.**_


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